The wonder of seeing your kite become air-borne, climbing and then sailing on a breeze is quite exhilarating to say the least. In a small way, it seems to help satisfy an age-old desire to fly like an eagle.
Concerning kites, I remember vividly one particular day of my childhood. It was early spring with a strong steady wind blowing. My brother and I had a new really large kite, and this was exactly the day we had been waiting for.
We headed across the street to the Grammar School playground. This large space was wide open and perfect for flying a kite. But, every time it would become airborne it would start cartwheeling and then crash to the ground. By this time several of our friends in the neighborhood had gathered.
We soon realized that a much longer tail was needed! So everybody ran home to search for whatever cloth they could find that could be used to add to the tail. We ended up with quite a colorful array of fabric which was torn into strips and added to the tail, after each attempt to steady and fly the kite. Since there was such a brisk steady wind, the tail would have been measured in yards not feet.
But, the kite soon became completely steady and began to climb...and climb...and climb!
Then we ran out of string! So, everybody ran home searching for anything such as string or cord or twine, etc. Anything which could be tied into the line so the kite (which was a small dot by this time) could continue to climb. Soon the kite was out of sight! All you could see was the line curving up into the atmosphere.
Then all of a sudden the very strong pull on the line stopped and the line began to fall across the schoolyard. Everyone started to wonder how high did it climb? And how many miles would you have to travel to find it?
I remember wondering across how many states was the kites' line laying! And then I began worrying if we could all be arrested? Which I am glad to say...didn't happen!
Almost ten years later when Apollo 11 carried the astronauts to the moon. I was convinced that when Neil Armstrong stepped from the lander to the moons' surface...that the first thing he would see...would be that kite lying there after all those years.
BOYS WILL PLAY!
So, William Rose Benet who was the author of the poem "The Skater Of Ghost Lake" which was the featured poem of my first blog post, is also the author of the poem "Kites" for my second blog post. And I have at least one more of his poems "The Falconer Of God" that I want to feature on a future blog post. I know it is becoming pretty obvious that he is one of my favorite poets. What can I say?
William Rose Benet
High on the telephone wires, the paltry pitiful
Hangs in rags and tatters and loops of string.
A slight breeze shakes it, but cannot shake it down.
It flutters and flutters forgotten above the town.
I hate a stranded kite,
Picked to the bones where the wind has claws that tear
And the rain has teeth that bite.
A child's is a great despair!
Such a lot of paste
And twine it took, and wrapping or daily paper,
And twists for its tail, lest it cut too great a caper
Up in the cumulous, out in the bellying, buoying air. . . .
Now it hangs there!
My dreams are gorgeous kites like the kites Chinese.
I can feel them tug and yank at my brain, in a breeze,
Shaped like serpent-dragons and whiskered tigers and other eccentric glories,
Such as knights and goblins and beasts out of fairy stories;
Hung with golden tinsel, and silver, and bright red firecracker paper,
Each jumper and twister and japer
That cuts its frolic caper
High in the buoyant blue.
And, high as I fly them, I stand a gaper
At other kites. Do you?
My kites are great gilt angels in garments of blue,
With white-feathered wings I scalloped from song-book pages.
They dip and romp
In happy pomp
High over the tossing trees, and the houses too;
And afloat through the silver of night they fling bright gages
At the horned stars with their luminous, twinkling graces.
They sway on the traces
Of comets, and nudge the moon, and smile all the while
The same untiring and ineffable smile . . .
Is it painted upon their faces?
My kites are huge like elephants, small like mice.
I fly them all in a flock, in spite of advice—
The best advice!
They go up in rainbow brilliance and snow-white storms,
In all shapes and forms.
Well, here's their memento! here's the superb ideal
Clutched by the real!
That frail little skeleton flutters between the wires
Till the eyesight tires. . . .
I turn to go—
Somewhat dashed, somewhat dashed, you know!
But regard that bright
Bulge of gold-lit glory that soars o'er those roofs, so white!
Get a golden cord! I must have that cloud for a kite!
WORDS OF WILLIAM™
William F. Carawan
All rights reserved
Boston, Massachusetts U.S.A.
I interviewed and hired a blue cow (see picture below) with a one of a kind attitude! Her name is Sally, although she says "sassy" is what most people call her...and I can understand why.
She recently arrived in the USA from a very tiny country called Kows'r'blu. In fact it is so tiny...that no one seems to know where it is located. Sally says its' one claim to fame is a small population (or herd) of blue cows which are not found anywhere else in the world. She says that makes her very rare and special! And I might add...seems to be the main cause of her attitude.
Sally has agreed to manage the "Comment Section" of my blog. She will get paid by commission based strictly on the tally of comments for that months' blog post. She seems to think that her attitude will be a big help in reaching that goal. And I can only imagine that it certainly will.
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