Over heads of fellow travellers
and padded backrests
through the mean slot of cabin's port
I peer at the sliver in the east
of faint scimitar pale old moon
as the sky lightens, knowing
we'll soon be landing at Heathrow.
Out there cold as snake skin
alien in thick shrouds
of scudding skimming clouds,
moist with clammy trails,
lifts cradles us all
in controlled descent, the wing
in tight chest suspension over Heathrow.
Opens, between wing and cloud
a sudden window, my first view
of the soft, the green and ancient
countryside of England,
meadows vague and soft,
lanes between horse guards hedgerows,
as we touch down at Heathrow.
Now in full view of crowded 747
floods of sudden emotion
drive unannounced tears
to my eyes and I, a boy again
relive with Wordsworth and Williamson
all the vicarious pleasures of youth
real at last as we land at Heathrow.
The visionary impact of flow of your words is a smooth flow for joy. Well thought out and elegantly brought forth in persuasive poetic diction with conviction. Thanks for sharing Adrian.
Excellent poem. I enjoyed every bit of it. I was there with you as you landed at Heathrow after a long flight from South Africa.
Another terrific poem. Wunderbar. (But no, not on this rotten site. Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”) Don't seek praise. These misfits on PH don't know a good poem from a bad one. bit.do/nocoffeeteaplease
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really enjoyed this wonderfully descriptive verse Adrian. Thank you
Thanks, Aaron. I waited a long time to get there and it was hugely emotional and worthwhile when I did.