Spitfire Poems - Poems about Spitfire

They were young starry-eyed, yet too soon so many had to die. Brave to a fault with wanderlust of youth, no challenge spurned however seemingly uncouth. In azure blue skies with only clouds as friends, they sought their prey through war's myopic lens. No quarter given and none spared by their foes, incandescent bullets superseding schoolyard blows. Skill and...

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Florida spitfire Sunshine in a warm blue sky Shorts in November....

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A whirlwind A force to be reackoned with A twirly whirly gig-o-ma-jig. She has so much to show for her efforts. It is fun to watch her in action. I see things happening, and I laugh Knowing she is the cause for a lot of it. She’s a spitfire, someone says. I nod. She’s forever busy, another person adds. She sure is. Her calendar is...

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For Spitfire, the Wolf The pack breathes forth crystal- mists, ghosting the landscape like wraiths leaving the abyss. In sarcophogy-effigyy. A Eulogy in cacophony Serving their own.Stead. Fates in cognition. Roundtable and Moordread. Satelliting their own volition. By the knight in their eyes like moons. Marauders by their own admission. They howl the private joke, giving homage to the light that looms. They are...

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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...

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Glide on the wing then bank to the left Dive with the wind then bank to the right Soar on the cloud and feel the sky So many unanswered questions why? See the enemy's cloud and turn to fight Picture that love you had in the corner of your eye Adrenaline surge in the roar of the stride Pierce the air with...

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>I must be honest, being new to this poetry, I do not understand half the terms describing types of poems, hence you will see a lot of, ' I do not know,' At the moment on my local BBC radio station they are talking about The Spitfire. Of course I've written...

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SPITFIRE The heart beats at the beauty of The silent elegant beast Getting close on the morning dew Ready for this flying feast Pulling the blade just once or twice Rolls Royce chucks smoke of blue The heartbeat of this grand old bird Will always run true With awesome grace she lifts her nose To lift you from the mire The smile just glows adrenaline...

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Alas for the sun which kisses my hand upon bended knee, Today he blesses me and Whispers my chosen name. Spitfire. Who among the common knew that ice could burn so brightly. Or that water could fit so very nicely with Flame. Today I am the world, its contents my game. Spitfire....

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