When No Planes Fly

A poem - the first on this blog - inspired by that brief respite from skies full of contrails:

(reprinted by permission of the author, David Oakley-Hill - who's on Twitter as GreenPoet)

WHEN NO PLANES FLY   

Vivid Venus dangles from a crisp new moon

while Mars is bold, the robin of the sky

the stars all twinkle, cheerful they have lost the misty veil ~

the day the planes are not allowed to fly

 

No one flies to New York for a party or a wedding

there’ll be photos on their PCs by and by

can’t waste your weekend catching just a glimpse of Tuscany ~

the day the planes are ordered not to fly

 

no cruel crates of mynah birds, of finch or parakeet

today the lovebirds nuzzle back at home

Lisbon welcomes Chancellor of Germany, surprised ~

God’s holy skydust keeps the Pope in Rome

 

The mangetout stays in Kenya, the oranges in Spain

the untossed salads won’t be dressed to dine

the food miles don’t pile on the carbon calories today ~

but the blue sky seems to say the world is fine

 

Intended celebrations, weekend jollies, all are stemmed

the businessmen learn trains can also fly

the toxic trails evaporate, reprieve the troposphere ~

today there’s silent beauty in the sky

 

People walk past Heathrow with no thunder overhead

hear, for the first time, birds call in the sky

tune in to catch the sounds of nature’s gentle wings ~

that special day - when no planes fly

 

The magma under Reykjavic is turning up the heat

The fine dust, metal, sand and gassy sky

The geothermal interest on this bankloan has matured ~

It’s payback time, when no planes fly