She of the flight 6E

An early morning flight and a window seat,

The sun rising above the clouds, in the Far East…

There’s seldom anything as embalming as the rising sun,

The beauty of a dawn is second to none.

Or so I thought…

It was a regular flight of 6E,

where I saw a breathtaking irregularity!

As calm as the voice of the waves in a moonless night,

As scintillating as the glorious sun in broad day light;

As poised as a queen in a poet’s prose

As fresh as a wintery mist on a red rose;

Unprecedented , the dawn had no chance,

It was beaten in being the ‘exemplar of divine romance’.

And when the first sunlight touched her face,

I bet even the dawn must have embraced

it’s defeat in beauty, which a non-living could also see,

It’s  conqueror? She, of the flight 6E!

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