The Poetry Wars Part 1
Andy, pass the cigs
I said with nervous laughter
First he tossed the pack
Then tossed the matches after
My hands were shaking so
I couldn't get a light
But it was time to go
On our early morning flight
Captain Fate, the legend
Just standing debonair
Andy puffed his cigarette
As if he didn't care
When the ground crew, gave the signal
That our planes were fit and ready
We all walked to our cockpits
Some sure and proud and ready
Others like myself
Dragged our feet and moved real slow
Like a child that tries to walk
Hip deep in frozen snow.
The smell of fuel and oil
Filled the warming twilight air
And a feeling came upon me
Like I wasn't even there
I felt like I was watching
Myself climb to my seat
Until a voice, drew me back
It was my old buddy, Pete
He was standing on the ground
Reaching up, to shake my hand
Then he ran to his plane
Through the smoke and blowing sand
The engines roared so fiercely
As they taxied in a line
Then turning in the wind
And waiting for the sign
There we stood that day
Like time and time before
Determine in out hearts
To win this Poet's War
Andy, Pete, Fate and me
Formed the Ninety Ninth Quatrain
Of the Hundred and Thirty Second
Poetry rhyming squadron
To Be continued
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