The Flying Machine Poem by Swapan Deep Singh

Passing through an aisle in the flying machine;
I portrayed an astonishingly bravura scene.

I could brightly see the Wright brothers in glee;
Looking at the blind sky and the finches chirping and perching on a tree.
A keen desire to fly;
Hit them hard and appealed, “Strive and try! ”
They did so and made something unique and rare;
It was a box, which according to them could float in thin air.

They pushed the frail object from a hill and heard it throb;
It tottered in air like a demented bird, glared the mob.
Their eyes twinkled; fast beat their hearts too;
They could see their dream flying in air as the birds do.

And then my flight landed; no hurdle did it face;
I thanked them who built this large bird;
Who made this world, a really very small place.