The Guardian of the Skies

The Guardian of the Skies

The Pilot has a trusty friend, who’s heard, but never seen,

Who issues forth instructions, in a never ending stream,

The calming voice, in times of stress, our anchor to the ground,

The measured tones, in hours of need, a truly welcome sound
When we’re “uncertain of position” or have a crisis in the air,

It’s good to know you have a friend, who’s always waiting there,

When fuel is low, and met is poor, you’re losing V.M.C.,

That’s when you’ll really value, the folk in A.T.C.,
It’s easy for us pilots, to infringe somebodies zone,

A moments inattention in the hurry to get home,

Then we get admonished by the ATCO, we’ve unhinged,

Who curtly, politely, tells us, his airspace we’ve infringed
When things are getting busy, near an airports cluttered skies,

Our invisible supporter, lends another pair of eyes,

On flying a tricky clearance, your jangled nerves she’ll settle,

As she vectors you quite safely, amongst the heavy metal
Next time you go aloft, spare a moment for the chap,

Who commands the little lines of blue, upon your half mil map,

Don’t gripe about the airspace, that in the UKs rife,

Or curse the ATCOs down below, one day they’ll save your life