Poetry by Jeff Green

2235–Flying.html

Flying

by cricketjeff on August 16, 2009.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

If I take a little detour there’s a path that climbs the hill
To a spot so far from London where the air is always still
There’s a tree beside the footpath which I climb to see the sky
And I lie down on a branch so I can dream that I can fly

In the silence of my daydreams I can spread two mighty wings
And set out across the golf course where old ladies hone their swings
I can swoop down to the water then soar back up through the clouds
Till I gaze down on the ant swarm that replaces human crowds

With a beat or two to drive me I sail far away from here
Over downlands full of cornfields where the country air is clear
Well away from work and worry as a bird I’m high and free
Wheeling round a thermal updraught heading closer to the sea

Now the ocean is below me and the sun is in the West
Pulling me towards your hideouts and the spots you love the best
Calling out to all who’ll listen that I’m on my way to you
Underneath that golden sunset you are coming into view

Weary wings now guide me gently to a landing by your side
On your own half hidden pathway where you sometimes go to hide
Then together we can clamber to a branch of some old tree
And for just a few rare moments you are lying here by me.