Plane

The engine is going,
The propellers start to spin.
The sound is still growing
In the plane that I'm in.
The wheels start to move,
We're picking up speed.
The noise is too high,
It's earplugs I need!
But now that we're flying
The noise has gone down.
I see someone sighing,
Another with a frown.
I look from a port hole,
And see miniature cars.
Then above the clouds we fly
To the familiar sight of stars.

Seamus Finnerty 2B.

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