The Little Aviator

In sleepy Meadow Creek, so green and wide, A small town airfield, where dreams reside. Red windsocks fluttered, a breezy dance, For planes taking off, a thrilling chance.

A young boy, Timmy, with eyes so bright, Dreamed of soaring high, with all his might. He'd watch the planes rumble, a metal gleam, Lost in fantasies, a sky-high dream.

Then, Bessie, the biplane, painted blue, With silver wings, sturdy and true, She winked a landing light, a friendly spark, Ready for adventure, out of the dark.

And Captain Joe, with a grin so wide, His leather helmet, his pilot's pride, He saw Timmy watching, with hopeful gaze, And beckoned him closer, in a friendly haze.

"Hop in, young Timmy!" the Captain declared, "A little adventure, bravely shared!" Timmy’s heart leaped, a joyful sound, As Bessie’s engine began to pound!

Up, up they climbed, above the trees, A tiny speck, upon the breeze. They looped and twirled, a dizzying sight, The world below, bathed in golden light.

They chased the clouds, like fluffy sheep, And waved to cows, who couldn't sleep. Bessie purred softly, a happy tune, Underneath the sun, and the silver moon.

The Captain pointed, to rivers so grand, And mountains towering, across the land. Timmy gasped, amazed and free, A tiny aviator, he longed to be!

Back on the ground, with wobbly knees, Timmy thanked Joe, with heartfelt pleas. He knew in his heart, beyond all doubt, His love for flying, would never burn out.

He'd be a pilot, brave and bold, A story of adventure, to be told. For in that small town, with Bessie so grand, A little aviator, had touched the land.