Lady of the sky, flying so high up into the blue,
all silver, a cloud’s silver lining. Now nothing
but a ghost, image on an old photo, in memories.
My aching dream to resurrect the lady of the skies
and let her exist again. I know I will fail.
I am a mere man. Lady of the sky, where are you now?
Lady of the lake, under fresh water waiting to be found.
Lady of the desert, sand blasted bare all alone.
Lady of the mountain, high and desolate,
captured by a mountain peak. Lady of the ice sheet,
frozen in time and in an icy grace preserved.
Where can I find you? I’ll do a magic spell to find you,
make you real. Take to the skies again, not just in my mind.
You are the most beautiful airplane and the best of them all—
de Haviland Hornet.