My Kite and the Seven Four Seven

I have the biggest and the best, it flies the highest in the world I have the rope anchored by concrete and round a spindle it’s curled. I let go the brake it shoots high up in the sky I want to take hold; but I don’t want to fly. My kite is a dragon with wings that are so wide It’s big enough to sit on and perhaps have a glide I want it too fly so high in the air People will see my dragon from almost anywhere. It soars, it roars there’s a flame from its mouth It dives and it swirls North, West and South. The rope is pulling and stretching out the full length nearly Maybe it’s too high, cos I can’t see it clearly. I hit the brake hard, smoke now starts to rise from it The dragon halts high ,its tail like a comet It bolts, it bucks, it fights with the brake and the wind I try to wind it in but I can’t move the damn thing. It's alive I can feel it as it roars in the heavens I fight and I then I see the Boeing Seven-Four-Seven It swerves it turns, the vapour trail is quite massive It rises and falls and I stand there impassive. The reports on the news the very next day A Boeing- Seven- Four- Seven had to change its way The captain’s in hospital with a reported break down The reporter says “He swerved for a dragon,” his face held a frown. The co-pilot won’t say what happened that day He is now on vacation; a very long one they say. My dragon it escaped from my rope that was thick There are reports of it flying, has anyone seen it? I cannot dedicate this to one poet that has helped or inspired me on this poetic journey because there is more than one. Each in their own individual way has given me something to use, learn and grow from so it is dedicated to all that have commented on my ditties.