Silver ships

There are trails that a lad may follow

when the years of his boyhood slip,

but I shall soar like a swallow

on the wings of a Sliver ship,

Guiding my bird of metal

One with her throbbing frame

Floating down like a pedal,

roaring up like a flame

Winding the wind that scatters

Smoke from the chimney's lip,

tearing the clouds to tatters

with the wings of my Silver Ship

Grazing the broad blue-sky light

up where the falcon's fare,

riding the realms of twilight

brushed by a comet's hair.

Snug in my coat of leather,

watching the skyline swing,

shedding the world like a feather

from the tip of a tilted wing.

There are trails that a lad may travel

when the years of his boyhood wane,

but I'll let a rainbow ravel

through the wings of my sliver plane.