You lie there motionless, so quiet and still,
In an airplane boneyard, on a desert hill;
Dignified in death, as you were in life,
Now far away from airborne strife.
Birds build nests where engines once hung,
Deer leave their scent in piles of dung;
Snakes find shade beneath your nose,
Mice build homes in old seat rows.
Once you were the Queen of the Skies,
Witness to sunsets and stormy skies;
The Earth was your oyster, each land your home,
As o'er the earth you chose to roam.
Millions of passengers you carried safe,
Nary a one did you harm or chafe;
Thirty years and thousands of hours,
In Sahara's heat and German showers.
You bore immigrants and movie stars,
Privates and Generals with silver stars;
Husbands and wives, children with tunes,
Newlyweds on their honeymoons.
Yours was a magic carpet ride,
Thru skies of blue, o'er ocean tide;
In shirtsleeve comfort we roamed the earth,
To far-away lands, to strange new turf.
Hold your head high! Be proud, old girl!
You gave us all a merry whirl
Above the clouds in air so still,
You gave us all an airborne thrill.
To foreign lands, you opened our eyes,
You shrank the earth, you conquered the skies;
Rest now, old girl, as good- byes are spoken
Thru tear filled eyes; our wings now broken.
This poem is dedicated to Boeing 747-100, N93108, born at Boeing Field, Seattle, Washington,
1968, retired as the last Boeing 747 to fly for TWA, 1998. She was the only 747 attired in
the new livery. She had 100,000 hours on her airframe.
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