Dawn Demure

Dawn demurely dooms darkness, dewy December day.

There! The shape of a machine peacefully sleeping.

Slumber banished, RAF pilot strolls to his mount -

Spitfire!

Kept warm by his fleece flying jacket,

fine silk shirt and thermal flying suit.

Mission time, Norway bound.

Land of ice and snow, glaciers and fjords, valleys and mountains.

Open the cockpit, climb aboard, checks complete, rise to meet God, feathery clouds beckon.

Recon mission time.

Such a fine machine, curves of a woman.

Fine precision Rolls Royce engine.

Exquisite optical cameras to spy on Nazi’s Christmas Day.

One thousand mile round trip, each mile for freedom.

A gentle ideal in the hearts of just and honest loving men.

Tirpitz photographs soon to be on Whitehall desks.

Experts choosing where to delicately place five ton Tallboy bombs.

Lancaster love.