The Magnificent Man in his Flying Machine
We heard the buzzing before we saw him
It quickly became louder and louder.
Was it the next door Grandpa on his lawnmower?
A scooter day tripper to the beach?
A giant bluebottle trapped at the window?
Or was it Superman?
He soared up, up, up
And swooped down, down, down
Gliding over the bay
Like a droning duck.
Who was this man of mystery?
Where had he come from?
Where was he going?
And when would he be back this way?
The star attraction at our private Air Show
Had gone as soon as he appeared
Buzzing off into the horizon
To brighten someone else’s day.
It quickly became louder and louder.
Was it the next door Grandpa on his lawnmower?
A scooter day tripper to the beach?
A giant bluebottle trapped at the window?
Or was it Superman?
He soared up, up, up
And swooped down, down, down
Gliding over the bay
Like a droning duck.
Who was this man of mystery?
Where had he come from?
Where was he going?
And when would he be back this way?
The star attraction at our private Air Show
Had gone as soon as he appeared
Buzzing off into the horizon
To brighten someone else’s day.
This poem is copyright (©) Morna Sullivan 2024
About the Writer
Morna Sullivan
Morna Sullivan has always had a love of stories and has been reading and writing stories and poems since she could read and write. She is a member of the Coney Island Writers Group and a SCWBI member regularly attending the Belfast chapter meetings. She has recently taken over as SCBWI Regional Advisor (Ireland) leading a team of volunteers supporting children’s writers and illustrators across Ireland.
