Over me jets fly
Outbound from T F Green and
summer doves still go
coo coo waves lap lap
as the planes keep going gone
the waves go lap lap
the sounds of summer
O O and later at night
the stars roar and roar
Over me jets fly
Outbound from T F Green and
summer doves still go
coo coo waves lap lap
as the planes keep going gone
the waves go lap lap
the sounds of summer
O O and later at night
the stars roar and roar
This is a wonderful summer reflection that leaves the reder with the giddy delight of having witnessed something amazing. This is a communal experience that connects us as readers with the poet and his poem and its Gestalts as reading becomes a creative participatory response. (I imagine the members of Queen felt something similar when they played ‘Breathrough’, for exmaple, together for the first time.) The jet planes with tehir specif origin and hte doves with their timeless yet always-slightly-changing calls (despite their notorious monotony–wood doves being among the birds who cannot elaborate on the basic form of their call) are answered by the astounding auditory and visual image of the roaring stars, an onomatapoetic phrase whose sound brings it alive visually as well as aurally.