A poem

One Sunday morning 16 bleary eyed passengers gather to join aeronauts for an experience.

A 4 wheeled beast drives off into the darkness in search of a beginning.

Destination found and the activity starts, cold underfoot, gentle chatter, nrevous movement, crew direct us.

Burst of noise, a puff of wind, dragons breath, and bright colours appear.

All aboard, a rage of fire, we levitate and the world looks smaller.

Way up high, it is so silent, gravity seems to be defiant.

Mind wonders of greater things. Oh to be bird is the way, lets not deny it!

Time rushes by, the world gets big, reality creeps in, and we are at an end.

Thanks John and crew for a lifetime memory

Brett Walker

Cloud 9 passenger

Clare Allen