Wednesday, April 30, 2014

THE AIRPLANE By Rowena Bastin Bennett.

An airplane has gigantic wings
    But not a feather on her breast;
She only mutters when she sings
    And builds a hangar for a nest.

I love to see her stop and start;
    She has a little motor heart 
That beats and throbs and then is still.
    She wears a fan upon her bill.

No eagle flies through sun and rain
    so swiftly as an airplane.
I wish she would come swooping down
    Between the steeples of the town

And lift me right up off my feet
    And take me high above the street,
That all the other boys might see 
    The little speck that will be me.


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