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
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