Spitfire

A Ring a Ring of Uncertainty A pocket full of Poppies And love letter good luck charm's A Spitfire thrust full throttle War chariot for a single brave owner History classes will muse about With only Bravado and comradeship to battle The skies fall down Like propeller blades and expunged pilot's Not kamikaze rather conscripts Children of the cause The Spitfire roars To parental knocks on door's Saying sorry for your loss Came not bearing a heroes body fit for a coffin But a letter and medal to follow Hollower Than bullet hole's On a Spitfire broken frame Without a Name Just another German Claim Heaven bound for Flanders grave The trampled fight paths of Spitfire exhausted flame ignitions Burn like fireworks displays on the 5th November Into countless mothers tears when dinner tables were left uncleared Knowing her youngest is never returning home His flight delayed permanently circling on clear day's So his mother prays On sober day's Behind glazed eyes Spent , her memory's will never relent Ever more tired With only the ire of a rusty old coal fire As consolation ear Dissolving into fear If only God could see her He would give his son to be her If god be all Then god be few There is nothing life can do for her War has been untrue to her There is no cure for her