On Memorial Day, Trevor and I went downtown
to the annual Festival in the Park.
There were several free activities.
We wandered around the park, visiting the various exhibits,
checking out the arts and crafts booths.
The library was having a used book sale, we listened to live music on the giant stage, and people-watched. We bought a Bloomin' Onion and drank lots of lemonade.
Trevor made funny faces when I pulled out my camera:
(just as he was going to cross his eyes)
(Ooh, pretty...ugly!)
Trying to block the camera
My sweet boy.* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
HIGH FLIGHT
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee
No 412 squadron, RCAF
Killed 11 December 1941
7 comments:
Oh, Kristine! Our tour guide at the Frontiers of Flight Museum in Dallas, Charlie Mohrle, was a pilot during WWII and quoted this poem to us!
What in the world were those wooden things? They look like fancy metrodomes.LOL
We have a gentleman in our church who was a B-17 pilot during WWII. He is such a wonderful godly man. I enjoy listening to him talk about his time during the war. His love of God and country is so inspiring.
Fun and unusual pictures!
Lisa, they are unique, aren't they? They were some kind of moving sculptures, like clocks without weights, so they would stop running more quickly. (Ugh, sorry I'm not more helpful!)
Kristine, I'm not kidding--you are a great photographer! I love those pictures of his eyes. Well, excluding that gross looking one, lol.
www.GreenerPastures--ACityGirlGoesCountry.blogspot.com
What funny faces he makes (LOL)!
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