Holiday Flight Abroad. Poem by David Boyce

We taxi down the runway,
The plane engines roaring loud,
Hearing the undercarriage lifting,
As we go up into the clouds.

As we fly quickly forward,
We hit a patch of turbulence,
The people walking inside the plane,
Are all knocked off balance.

Food isn't served like old times,
Not everybody has a cooked meal,
Many people having snacks instead,
It's not a massive deal.

The blue skies and the clouds outside,
The horizon glowing orange and yellow,
Looking through the port hole type windows,
Passengers just being very mellow.

The descent was long and slow,
As we hear the lowering of the landing gear,
Not long until we touch down at the airport,
And the resort is quite near.


Written by David Boyce
30 July 2014


DavidBoyce©2014