The Horrors Of Flying Poem Rhyme Scheme

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The day is cold the wind is strong	A
And through the sky great cloud banks throng	A
While swathes of snow lie on the ground	B
O'er which I walk without a sound	B
But I have vowed to fly to day	C
Though winds are fierce and clouds are grey	C
My aeroplane is on the field	D
So I must fly my fate is sealed	D
And no excuses can I make	E
Within its back my place I take	E
I strap myself inside the seat	F
And press the rudder with my feet	F
And hold the wheel with nervous grip	G
And gaze around my little ship	G
For on its wire rigging taut	H
Depends my life which will be short	I
If it should fail me in the air	J
Swift then my fall and short my prayer	J
And these my wings would be my pyre	K
So well I scrutinise each wire	K
Then out across the field I go	L
In shaking progress noisy slow	L
And turn until the wind I face	M
Then do I look around a space	M
For fear to day is at my heart	N
And nervously I fear to start	N
The field is clear the skies are bare	J
Mine is the freedom of the air	J
And yet I sit and hesitate	O
Although each moment that I wait	O
Brings to my soul a greater fear	P
To me the grass seems very dear	P
Dear seems the hut where dreams have crept	Q
To me each midnight as I slept	Q
Dear seems the river by whose brink	R
I oft have watched brown pebbles sink	R
Deep in the crumbling bridge's shade	S
Where in the evening I have strayed	S
My restless hands hold fast the wheel	T
Once more the wing controls I feel	T
I move the rudder with my feet	F
And settle firmly in the seat	F
I start and o'er the snowy grass	U
In ever quicker progress pass	U
On either side the ground streaks by	V
And soon above the grass I fly	V
I feel the air beneath the wings	W
At first a greater ease it brings	W
But soon the stormy strife begins	X
And if I lose 'tis Death who wins	X
The winds a thousand devils hold	Y
Who grasp my wings with fingers bold	Y
And keep me ceaselessly a rock	Z
I seem to hear those devils mock	Z
As I am thrown from side to side	A2
In unseen eddies terrified	A2
As suddenly I start to drop	B2
And when my plunging fall I stop	B2
Up am I swiftly thrown once more	C2
Like no great eagle do I soar	C2
But like a sparrow tempest tost	A2
I struggle on My faith is lost	A2
My former confidence is dead	A2
And whispering fear has come instead	A2
Death ever dogs me close behind	A2
My frightened soul no peace can find	A2
I feel a torture in each nerve	D2
As to the right or left I swerve	D2
And now Imagination brings	W
Its evil thoughts I watch the wings	W
And wonder if those wings will break	E
The tight stretched wires seem to shake	E
I see the ghastly headlong rush	E2
And picture how the fall would crush	E2
My helpless body on the ground	A2
With haggard eyes I turn around	A2
And contemplate the rocking tail	F2
My drawn and sweating cheeks are pale	F2
Fear's clammy hands clutch at my heart	A2
I try with unavailing art	A2
To summon thoughts of peaceful hours	G2
Spent in some sunny field of flowers	G2
When my half opened eyes would look	H2
On some old dream inspiring book	H2
And not on this accurs d wheel	T
And on this box of wood and steel	T
In which at pitch and toss with Death	I2
I play and wonder if each breath	I2
I tensely draw will be my last	A2
The happy thoughts are swiftly past	A2
My frightened brain forbids them stay	A2
Dear London seems so far away	A2
And far away my well loved friends	J2
Each second my existence ends	J2
In my disordered mind whose pace	M
I cannot check its cog wheels race	M
Like some ungoverned whirring clock	Z
When frenziedly it runs amok	K2
I have resolved that I will climb	L2
A certain height how slow seems time	L2
As on its sluggish pivot creeps	M2
The laggard finger point which keeps	M2
The truthful record O how slow	L
Towards the clouds I seem to go	L
And then ambition gains its mark at last	A2
The little finger o'er the point has passed	A2
I can descend again With conscience clear	P
And end this battle with persistent fear	P
The engine's clamour dies there is no sound	A2
Save whistling wires as towards the ground	A2
I gently float My agony is gone	N2
What peace is mine as I go gliding on	O2
Calm after storm contentment after pain	P2
Soft sleep to some tempestuous burning brain	P2
The soothing harbour after foamy seas	Q2
The gentle feeling of a perfect ease	Q2
All all are mine though yet by gusts distressed	A2
Near is the ground and with the ground comes rest	A2
Above the trees I glide above the grass	U
Above the snow besprinkled earth I pass	U
I touch the ground run swift along and stop	B2
Above the wheel my tired shoulders drop	B2
I leave my seat and slowly move away	A2
Cold is the wind the clouds are grey	A2
I only wish my room to gain	P2
And in some book forget my pain	P2
And lose myself in fancied dreams	R2
Across Titania's golden streams	R2
	-
France	S2

Paul Bewsher

The Horrors Of Flying Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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