TITLE: Flight of Fancy
By Margaret Kearley
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Stretching as far as eye can see,
A landscape strange and new,
No evidence of field or tree,
No bustling town, busy city,
Just miles of white and blue.
Antarctica or Arctic scene
where snowy wastes mask brown and green,
A quiet beauty, yet unseen,
A land untamed and free.
I feel I could step out and tread
Each icy billowing mount,
Explore the hills that lay ahead,
Conquer the new - but no, instead
The truth I can't discount.
The billowing fields of blue and white
That deep below us lay
Are simply clouds, glist'ning with light,
A beauteous, vivid, radiant sight
Shining for our display.
And so, to reach an island fair,
Our destination gain,
We soar through miles of sky and air,
And on this landscape downward stare
From confines of a 'plane!
Descending now, through white and blue,
Clouds shining in the sun,
We leave behind the glorious view,
Exchange it for more scenes brand new,
Madeira, here we come!
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