When I switch his bathroom light on
the fan starts to turn
a rumble and a whine taking him back through time....

Kaufmann starter kicking off
crack like thunder smoke and cough
from the man on the extinguisher in the smoke
laugh at his cursing you lip-read what he spoke
Wide track rumble to the strip
don't be long she overheats quick
airbourne twenty-four cylinders yell
thank you Rotol Goodyear and Shell
you might sigh for a merlin maybe
but fear this awkward sleeve-valve baby
nothing faster in the sky
get it wrong you are going to die
Fly off track to where she is staying
as you pass you feel her praying
then out across drowned Doggerland
skimming waves speed to command
December greys from sea to sky
hit the coast then climbing high
not trains or targets in the  rubble
today your flying into trouble
Their last big throw to claim the air
put all theirs up from anywhere
trails in the sky mark souls that fall
just men who answered duty's call
over Holland's blasted ports
remember rocketing those forts
now a maelstrom fire and shell
into modern Dante's hell
you picked a speck to follow down
moving fast this chap's no clown
kicking rudder yawing mind
he doesn't see you down behind
A TA 152 now you know
see now howbloody fast they go
push the throttle out to the stop
break the limit wire hope she won't pop
sees you know and spirals round
gaining height you're gaining ground
an elegant sight for both to see
but this is the last thing he will see
Twenty millimetre rounds
make an evil dreadful sound
a mockery of alloy and steel
pulls it apart like the fruit you peel
was that a puff of red you saw
made you gasp a nerve still raw
as the shells chewed up to his cockpit
where a frightened human being sits
gone now in a shower of flame
war and fear this was never a game
low on fuel and cold inside
keep low for home above  the tide
A buzz for her again to show
you made it back but yet you know
however much she has to pray
her heart is breaking every day
A month or two and war will end
Europe for now you did defend..

I turn the light out the fan slows down
notice the tears and then your frown
feel so helpless as you lie
in your bodies prison longing to die
missing so badly the wife who is gone
could you  fly to her beyond the sun
So sad to see you sitting there
your world a bathroom a bed and a chair
we needed you seventy years ago
now it seems nobody wants to know.....

Springtime is coming from the south
I smell it taste it in my mouth
Calming dreams and precious talks
carrying you in my thoughts
and now there is a warmth and light
that grows a little every night
as I hear the sound of fingers drumming
"wake up soon the spring is coming!"

Broken hearts and broken threads
my poetic soul is left for dead
cannot write a single verse
except this stuff here dour or worse
want to write of sun and schemes
of  hares and birds and sweet sweet dreams
but got myself down in a hole
now poetry has lost it's soul
perhaps it will get back to me
feel so sad I cannot see
like filling in some rotten form
not feeling welcomed wanted warm
tried today all morning long
every verse has gone so wrong
Judy post us a challenge please
this new site has me on my knees X