The Australian desert can be very cold at night. It was the cold that woke us early in the morning. We were all eager to be off, and we soon found ourselves drumming along the metalled road leading to the airstrip, in an ex military four by four open topped vehicle. By the time we got there we were all frozen, and waiting for the Sun to warm us up. The pilot asked us if we would donate a shirt, the fitters were doubtful whether they had been able to stop the leakage, they intended to stuff rags into the filler pipes  to see if that would help. The pilot had second thoughts, and decided to try without, he thought there might be a danger of blocking the fuel lines, so we took off again to **** it and see,(an old tried and trusted technique in The Royal Air Force, aparrently.)Twenty minutes later, we were back on the tarmack once more ,stuffing the remains of my shirt into the fuel filler pipes. This did not cure the problem, but it did alleviate it to a degree.  The Pilot calculated that instead of being able to do twelve hundred mile (hops). we could manage three hundred miles. and there were small airstrips with refuelling facilities within range. "We should be ok, fingers crossed." I liked his confidence, and sat watching the wings slowly leaking our fuel into a thin vapour trail, as we flew along over the outback desert land. We landed several times I think, by then I was so tired that my brain craved sleep. The only stop I can remember was a cattle station at Leigh Creek, it was the last stop before Edinborogh Fields,near Adelaide. I wondered "And then what?" No one was able to tell us why we were in OZ!!

The Firethorn Tree stands in the garden
by a latted  wooden fence
festooned o'er all cascading flowers
with a whiteness so intense.
In the freezing winter months
her scarlet berries cry come hence
to the ever hungry birds ,in residence.

When I am dead-and my body turned to dust,
my atoms will conjoin with her I loved and lost,
and we'll be two in one again-that is if God is just.
Together we will quit this old Earth's crust, and fly-
above the mountains of The Moon, to view the constellations in the heavens, and negociate the crowded realms above-to ride on Pegasus
and sup with Cassiopea, conversing on equal terms, with Lyra Vegus and Aquilla-who will direct us and be our guide
to where all space and time is quite forgot,
and there we will find Heaven waiting- with open gates,
and the smiles of all the friends we knew, to regognise our maker, and be  made welcome.

We were all anxious about the takeoff. With one faulty engine and a short rough runway, we neded all the airspeed we could muster to get airborne. We hung on and braced ourselves as we roared down the runway. The bouncing suddenly stopped. We were airborn! we seemed to skim the wave tops for ages before we started a slow climb to our normal cruising altitude. This was another boring featureless flight, over the sea towards Darwin. I don't know what I was expecting, but whatever it was, I was dissapointed. Darwin was a mosquito ridden dump at  that time. We ate slept and took off after refuelling. Still with a faulty engine. The other aircraft did not come with us, this time we were alone and heading for a well known town in the outback. Alice springs. Now we were flying over some great country, it seemed so crisp and clean- even if most of it was desert. We landed at alice springs to refuel, and then took off with full tanks, heading for the Australian Air Force base near Adelaide, I think it was at Edinburgh Fields. Gordon was sleeping, or trying to, I was sitting by the window gazing at the countryside below. I began to see what looked like a vapour trail coming from the wing, there was one similar coming from the wing opposite too, it was very slight, was I seeing things, perhaps it was moisture in the air, I sat and watched for half an hour, it was more noticeable now, and it seemed to be coming from the fuel tank filler pipes. I thought it was worth a mention, and I went to the cockpit where the pilot and radio operator were talking to the fitters. The Pilot was thumping the gauges on a panel. I told them what I saw. Christ! the pilot and the fitters looked worried very worried.
He patted me on the shoulder, "Well done, we thought the fuel gauges must be faulty. He turned the aircraft around and headed back to Alice springs for another refuelling. The tanks were filled again, the filler caps were ******* down tight, and we took off again!  Twenty minutes later we were back for more fuel and the filler caps were checked and rechecked and finally ******* down as tight as possible. We took of again, and landed again, took on more fuel,and  tightened the filler caps. "It's too late to continue with the flight now, we'll stay in town tonight and try again in the morning. "That was easier said than done, we had no money and no credit, we managed to get a room at the pilots expense , but there was no food but a packet of biscuits.
I lay on the bed beside four others and wondered what tomorrow would bring.

In ancient times long long ago,
when Ptolemy looked up into the firmament-
with wonder and amaze, to see the heavens glowing there-
he little knew of how the Gods did sport and play!
When Cassiopeia ope'd her ***** and let forth her music in the heavens, with joy the stars did dance and planets in their fundament  strove to eclipse each other vying with all their might to illuminate-the heavens more bright with their ethereal light and splendor.
Andromeda began to dance, then Sirius  and Betelgeuse,
Virgo too with Capricorn- Herculese and Aquila-Regulus with Ursa minor, all the planets danced but one,
and that with angry stance, refused to join the dance,  
Mars with red countenance stood aloof feigning reproof,  
 Look carefully, and you will see,
the stars still dance for you and me.

A shimmering lake of my own making,
a flash of blue across the water,
twelve spotless geese conversing
in private tones, reflected.
Coot and moorhen feeding chicks,
This is my delight,
to look upon nature
in the glorious Sun
and smile, contented.

The Lunatic the Poet and the Lover are of imagination all compact.
So saith the bard. (midsummer night's dream) act 1V  Sc 1. by William Waggledagger.  Apologies   are due to those kind souls who read my  puny efforts at poetry and respond with kind comments.
My  response is--- (wait for it) your kindness is amazing, however, my laptop is no more amazing than I am and has had a panic attack-as I have, when confronted with all of the replies and comments , I may never catch up, even when I sit at my musing at 3-20 am., with cramped legs and aching back.  So there it is folks,  I am getting older. (I am already old), and I am not computer literate- someone near and dear to me has just commented that I am not the least bit literate, never the less, I will continue in my own muddled way and  try to shake off the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, and persevere, thank you and goodnight (bows to audience) and waves to shouts of geroff ya fool while avoiding missiles.