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U3A Writing: Silver Wings

Merle Parkin writes of life-saving silver wings.

Frail bird of silver wings, appearing
Out of the haze that veils the shimmering plain,
Though torment seals my eyes,
I know you're nearing, I hear you murmuring even through my pain.

No silk-smooth welcome waits your glad alighting,
No white-edged pathway, flanked by close-mown grass,
Just sharp, rough gibber, while your wings are fighting
For balance, where wild willy-willies pass.

Swift dove of mercy, though in fever raving,
I know your silver wings will shelter me;
You'll clasp me to your bosom, and then braving
Danger and distance, soar like the eagle, free.

No rare, exotic avian beauty sharing
The wonder of your flight,
No saccharin sound in heaven worth comparing
With your sweet drone, approaching at first light.

Ah, silver wings, your bright red cross redeeming
Hope, in the wilds where scant hope lived before,
Fledgling of one enlightened pioneer's dreaming -
Oh Flying Doctor, fly forever more!

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