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Golden arrows in the sky, Early morning Gloster fly, With streaming tails And screaming wails, Gleaming, dreaming, steaming down As Jewels on a golden crown. Heedless of the passing view, Reaching up for thrills anew, Each flying machine an extension That twists and turns at the very mention Of a nerveless maneuver, with provisioned skill, And effortless grace, as time stands still. Stainless steel in a stainless sky, Golden men flying high, Rocketing earthwards in a bomb burst, Jockeying, turning, with movements well versed, A beautifull ballet with space so narrow, Silver sovereigns separating Red Arrow. |