To slip among the misty cloud tops, as graceful as a white dove, yet as brave as an eagle. With the eye of thy sharpest pilot, to catch the beauty of the bluest skiesamong high, always to appreciate. To every which way of thy wishes and dreams. As the softest feather in the wind, a gallant flight, in thy heavenly winds. To dive here, to climb there, sway to and fro, the wind as my comforting blanket, not a foe any where. To sweep the dawns gleaming sunlight, to be swept away, afar to thy deepest wonders hidden within the mysteries of flight, not to fear, yet more to know he's there. To sail with her bright spirit upon the sea of thy universe. With the spirit of the gallant sailors of old, yet with the mighty wings of silver glamour, still to shine on, and on. To the spirit of flight rooted deep within her brave heart, always to venture out; to seek and to also find the shiniest path to the farthest galaxy. A final goal to grasp more, and more knowledge for mankind in the outer most wonders of the universe. Don't forget the brave crew that carried,"The Apple of flight", of the good songs of their life. May we never forget; The Apple of flight
L w Bond

After the exsplosion of the space shuttle in the 1980's, I wrote this poem in memory of Christi Mccalleth, and the whole crew that died on that fatal day.