A Lament To The Lightning's Poem by Christopher Tye

A lament to the Lightning's

No more will we see your kind again in the skies of Lincolnshire,
What's left of you are just airframes scattered in museums,
A fading memory of your past glories.

You were never just a machine to me,
You had a heart and soul like a living being,
You were so perfect in your design,
You never had to carry out the grim reality of the duty you were designed for,
Was it just irony the only plane you had to shoot down was a Harrier abandoned by its pilot.

You served your duty well,
Being based across Britain, Cyprus and West Germany,
The roar of your two mighty Avon jet engines echoed across the skies,
Sounding like the thunder that always accompanied lightning in a storm.

From when your prototypes first flew in the fifties,
No other airplane could match combination of power, speed & agility,
Until the American's built the F-15 Eagle,
Which became the first airplane to match and exceed what you could do.

But for me no other airplane can match your beauty and grace in the skies,
For it is the in the skies where you will always belong,
You will always stand out as an example of what our small island could achieve,
For you were the first plane to equal its thrust with its weight.

You will always be the fastest airplane of your time,
The late seventies' was the beginning of your long and glorious swansong,
As you were being reduced in numbers.

At the end of your service,
RAF Binbrook became your final stronghold,
From where you protected England's east coast.

Then in '88 your kind fell silent,
No more would we hear your mighty roar,
No more would we see you streak across the skies.

But now Binbrook is forever your true home,
With three of your ilk still remaining there,
Standing like sleeping sentinels,
Forever longing to reach for the skies once more.

By Christopher Tye