I have often wondered why
Man has this strange urge to fly
Soaring in the sky above
Like a wren, or hawk or dove
How stupid, he has no wings
So unlike a bird who sings
Icarus made this mistake
I will not that same route take
Foolish always is my way
With my bride on wedding day
To Paris flew with my love
Cuddled up like turtle doves
So it is the years since then
I've flown high just like that wren
Who across the world migrates
Thankfully near heaven's gates
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ah yes! its good to soar sometimes with wings of steel
ReplyDeletemuch love...
Oh so wonderful that you and your bride went to Paris. What could be better? Lovely.
ReplyDeleteIt is interesting, isn't it, how humans have such an urge to fly though we don't have wings. Your last stanza is moving... eventually everyone will take that flight!
ReplyDeleteYes, it takes something amazingly deep to alter such a conviction and make us take flight! Lovely.
ReplyDeletespecially enjoyed that sweet romantic touch to this poem on aviation...
ReplyDeletedelightful, Egg.
ReplyDeleteLove your perspective on this, Robin ❤️ Beautifully penned.
ReplyDeleteLet's not land at heavens gate just yet.. i love the flow of the words and the words themselves.. on the whole being on earth is the better of options
ReplyDeleteParis with your bride...perfect!!
ReplyDeleteI love the lilt to this poem!
ReplyDeleteEverything about Parisian culture seems to have been innately designed for love!!Ah- it certainly is the epitome of romance.
ReplyDeleteLovely poem, Robin.