Poem By Alison Cassidy
I wasn’t sure at first
how you’d enjoy it,
but I knew you liked adventure,
so I booked
and kept my fingers crossed.
The tiger moth stood to immaculate attention,
a giant insect marooned on a grassy sea.
Smaller than I had imagined her
and lighter too,
with silver fabric wings
and a lone propeller
balanced on her nose.
She might have been left over
from a Forties film set,
or a toy abandoned by a spoiled child.
You donned the flying jacket
(with surprising agility)
into the forward cockpit.
Then belted, capped and goggled
you awaited the ‘contact’ command
and a firm hand upon the propeller.
I shielded my eyes
as the ancient bi-plane rose into the air,
pirouetting amongst the clouds
and looping the loop with terrifying grace.
Your face was pink and pleased
when you alighted.
‘It was fabulous’ you said -
and meant it.