The Ghostlight
Another Flight
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Flightful fancies



In the distant sky
Before me, blue horizon
High above the cirrus clouds
The Earth miles below
Now above the cumulus clouds
From my window I can see
The thin veil of stratus clouds
Streaking across the sky
A layer of white, a layer of blue
Shapes appear before me
A person, a car
An animal, a plant
Not unlike
A brilliant white paint
Strewn upon
A pastel blue canvas
With the whispy willowly brushstrokes
Of the hand of a child
Perhaps I am viewing this canvas
Through the eyes of a child

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Another Flight

Once again in this seat, so quiet am I
To my right and left again, nothing but sky
Once again I question why am I here
In silence... no answer... nothing is clear
For my work I say, this is what I do
But deep in my heart, I haven't a clue
Would that one moment that I may have peace
Could that one moment the terror would cease
My heart is growing so tight in my chest
To land safely once more my only request
To feel the sun on my face, the earth under my feet
To feel the touch of my love on my sweet
To know another day will come in which I will live
What price would I pay... what would I give
Frightened am I... Frustrated YES
Will I see another day is anyones guess
Will I be able to travel again... "just because"
Or will I now and forever hesitate... pause
Will I need to evaluate... rethink every trip I take
For the deep fear within me...tomorrow I'll not wake

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Another morning
A new day
Two flights to go
I'm on my way
The plane makes ready
And off we go
Where we are heading
I don't want to know
Why do I do this
Why do I fly
At 30,000 feet
It's so easy to cry
I feel so alone here
Though many people there be
I know none of these people
They know nothing of me
I sit quietly writing in my book
On this long and lonely flight
My heart, mind and soul are elsewhere
It's going to be a long and lonely night

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Alone Again
Once again I am here
Sitting alone
No one to talk to
Or to share a smile
No one to laugh with
Or even hold for a while
I have a seat
All to myself
No one to the right of me
Nor even to the left
I am alone in the first row
How special can that be
No one here to sit with me
No one to hear me breathe
No one to watch my face
As my expressions change
As I fly from here to there
I am alone, all alone
I hear my heart beating
The sound is deafening


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The Breath of Life

One by one they land
These large shiny behemoths
Noisy they are
They come from where?
Out of the air?
Impossible as it may seem
Held up by what?
What cannot be seen?
Impossible you say
As impossible as it is
Perchance to say
The breath of GOD
The breath of life
As breathed into me
At 4:36 AM
November 3rd, 1957
As I look out the window
Of the behemoth I am in
I thank the lord
For that breath of life

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The view from my first class seat
A cool breeze blows from the vent above
No Smoking, Fasten Seat Belts read the signs overhead
White everywhere, in many subtle hues
Off white, white, antique white and cream
All blended with shades of gray
And divided by stripes of black
So bland is this place I am
No colors of life
Only the soft pastels of a background
Surrounding me
1A, 1C, 1D and 1F. . .No room in first for seats B or D
The seats though comfortable are far from comforting
From the window the scene changes little
From this high up, 25,000 feet all there is
Is blue with wisps of. . .. . .more white
Blue, White, Black and Gray
Not exactly the colors of a cheerful day
I'll do what I can to make the best of it though
When the day is waning and the sun is hanging low
Off in the distance there will again be a rainbow of colors


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In the corner tucked so nice and neat
Small, clean tennis shoes covering little feet
Some fruit, orange juice & croissant sweet
These are what I see in my first class seat

The magazine she is reading
Loosely held in her hands
Her chest rises and falls with each breath
Her hair long auburn strands

She gazes out the window with nary a care
This is nothing new, she's many miles in the air
Up and back she flies sometimes twice a week
Enough times to earn upgrades to her own first class seat

She asked, "What's that in your hands clutched so tight"?
I said, " A collection of thoughts and words I write".
She asked, "How do you do it? What to write, how do you know?"
I said, "I close my eyes, open my mind and the words begin to flow!"

She asked what is my inspiration
She said she could never do it without consternation
I said, "A bird, a bridge, a sound, a child,
Is all that is necessary to make mind imagination run wild!"

As I sat talking with her I made mental notes
My mind running amuck with little quips and quotes
The flight nearly over would there be enough time
To put all the thoughts together and make them rhyme

I told Beverly I was just having fun
And when the flight was over I would not be done
Though my mind runs like a rabbit, I write like a snail
So I told her when it is finished, I'd send it by E-mail

She said with excitement, "No one's ever written for me"!
I said, "Then this is a first, I'll call it 'Beverly'!"
So now my thoughts are slowing and the flight nearly over
I put my book to rest as I slowly close its cover.

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As cute as a button
As pretty as can be
This tiny little blonde
In seat "3C'

She's two and a half now
In October she'll be three
As cute as a button
As pretty as can be

Her eyes full of wonder
As she looks out her window
So high in the air she is
The Earth far below

She sits with her mother
Both on their way home
All the way from California
To Charlotte they've come

So talkative is she
This l'il sprite of a girl
Her hair all a' tussle
Her hands moving in a whirl

She's so much to say
About where she's been
I sit and listen
My face all a'grin

Her mom looks so tired
A long trip in one day
And to keep her l'il one amused
Is quite a struggle anyway

The flight nearly over
But her stories far from done
On the ground soon to be
And a new venture begun

She's one more flight to take
Then home she will be
Finally a long deserved rest
With mommy and daddy

As cute as a button
As pretty as can be
This tiny l'il blonde girl
In seat "3C"

(MFP - 01/05)


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Michael Francis Palmosina II
Copyright 2002 Michael Francis Palmosina II

  Music playing
Temptuous seas midi