Flyers Prayer Aviation Poems 

SORTIE

“Scramble” squawks the speaker harsh,
Starlings swirling from the marsh,
As dawn is breaking ever brighter,
I’m racing toward a waiting fighter.

Inside the ship as in a dream,
My ears repel the starter’s scream,
Belching smoke, the engine churning,
Belts are buckled, prop is turning.

Gauges move up to their mark,
Throttle forward, hear her bark,
Ease the stick and lift the tail.
There’s the speed, now up we sail.

My eyes move upward toward the sky
, A place to fight, a place to die,
Who will it be I meet today,
No time for fear, just time to pray.

Climb for height, adjust for speed,
Surprise, surprise is what we need,
Dear Lord I see them just below,
The leader calling tallyhoe!

Push the nose down, keep her straight,
Toward a man I do not hate,
Faster, faster down I soar,
In seconds now my guns will roar.


​Muscles tighten on the trigger,
Guns spew lead I thank my rigger,
A mark is found, a life is spent.
A flyer starts his last decent.

I look around and scan the blue.
In hope of finding those who flew,
From fields this morn, off grass so soft,
To take their turn with death aloft.

Now left, now right, they join on me,
First one, then two, and now there’s three,
Each man waving to the other,
Each man waving to his brother.

To hell we’ve been these men and I
It’s not the place I dreamed to fly,
Today our threat has turned and run,
I wait the time when fighting’s done.

Now gently gently, let her settle,
Careful now, don’t bend her metal,
Take care of her as she did you,
Today you flew as one, not two.

It’s done I’m down, the sortie’s over
My wheels touch lightly on the clover,
My heartbeat slows, she comes to rest,
A grateful feeling in my chest.



by Patrick J. Phillips 

Sortie

by Patrick J. Phillips