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~ Calgary Poetry Magazine: "The Pilot" by Harold Line ~
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Published April 5, 2016

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The Pilot

A simple lad, like you or I
Eager help for Mom today
With brimming bags of bread and meat
They strolled along in summer heat
On homeward trail by farmer’s field
They came upon a sight surreal
Wings of cloth and wires of steel
A wooden prop hung righteously
from the engine round with dignity
So rare this curiosity
An airplane! Such a thing to see
in this quiet burg of serenity

A sturdy man, leather clad
An oily wrench in a weathered hand
for a hammers job. He reached in a sack
and smiled at the boy as he went to his task
Nailing a poster upon a fence
The words simply:

“Airplane rides
Fifty Cents”

"Oh Mother please. Can I?" he begged
She bowed her head. Said “Not today”
“You’ll have to put that dream away”
“There’s work to do and bills to pay”
“No money to spare for boys to play”

Though his smile ne’er dimmed nor his heart dismayed
They went along their dusty way
to routine chores forever changed
His world the same, though somehow strange

For dreams delayed can never die
When queried as not how, but why
To shed the bonds of earth and fly
And frolic the windswept sprays on high
Dreams dance across a mackerel sky
and fill the soul with the wind's sweet lullaby

Within his core had this passion bitten
Adventures bold as yet unwritten
The grand lady of flight had surely smitten
a young boy's fancy to take her hand
and whisk her to that magic land
where eagles soar and angels play

A pilot was born that day


Biography
Harold Line is a semi retired Calgary real estate investor.  He has a passion
for aviation, travel, and adventure, and loves writing about his exploits and
experiences.
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Poetry by Harold Line

The Pilot
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