First Flight
First Flight
Cedarwood frame and canvas kite,
Made at home with purpose flight.
Blustery day on pastured ground,
Early reluctance now skyward bound.
The tug is strong and pulling hand,
Resilient aircraft takes command.
My feet have risen from their base,
Clasping tight, wind in my face.
Physics dictate this cannot be,
Two metres off the ground maybe three.
Release the strings ‘fore it’s too late,
Holding on might seal my fate.
I should have bailed at first chance,
Rising 100 feet in an ariel dance.
Drop into the reservoir down below,
But cannot swim so that’s a no.
Southwest zephyr increasing pace,
Could I disappear to outer space.
Green fields and river fleeting by,
Farmyard cattle greeting hi.
Sailing onwards summer breeze,
Over houses and oakwood trees.
Relaxed and tranquil is my mind,
Meandering lanes of privet lined.
Outcry voices “come down you fool”
Hullabaloo aside St Joseph school.
No strategy placed how I might land,
Safety first I hadn’t planned.
Crashed near summit Pendle Hill,
Slightly bruised but breathing still.
Box kite broken beyond repair,
Its final flight ends in despair.
On reflection perhaps a dream
A cry for help or inward scream
A lot depends how you perceive.
Personally, this experience I believe.
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