Monday, November 5, 2018

November 5, 2018

Ballad of the Nervous Air Passenger
with a nod to Robert Louis Stevenson
How do I hate to go up in a plane,
up in the air so blue.
Oh, how I think it's the scariest thing
ever a tourist can do.

Up in the air 10,000 feet high
through the clouds grey and white,
my nerves run amok, I certainly cry,
I can't bear an aerial sight.

When I look down on the land or sea,
I can only imagine the fall
down through the air clutched by hard gravity.
It's a wonder I travel at all.

by Paula Mahon
in volume 6 issue 2

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1 comment:

  1. Well done,you over there. I'm in the UK and love to read your parodies.
    We too have a poetry site: Poems and Parodies. x


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