A little poem I wrote on my flight from London Heathrow to New York JFK on 9th Feb (and while waiting to get to the terminal building)!
Those crisp high peaks with wispy hair, no movement do they make
As crimson light from ageing sun, transforms those hills to lakes
Those sharp white clouds they are no more, they’re nestled in evening glow
With pins of gold and red shone through, natures closing show
Flying towards that dying sun, the gentle fading light
Westward bound, now clouds reveal, the mountains snow-capped white
The lights below begin to flicker, as mankind makes their way
Through darkened streets and winding roads, to finish off their day
The mountain ranges of Canada, they stretch out far ahead
With twilights glow and reflected white, the ground so few do tred
Now rested here at JFK, watching snow flakes fall
A blanket clean and crisp to touch, it slows us, makes us crawl
So now New York, what delights have you, for my month long stay?
Hard work no doubt, but laughter too, trying to keep cold at bay
This beautiful City, with so much to do, somewhere you have to see
It’ll charm your soul and make you smile, such a refreshing place to be.