Combat Report

"Just then I saw the bloody Hun" You saw the Hun? You, light and easy, Carving the soundless daylight. "I was breezy When I saw that Hun." Oh wonder Pattern of stress, of nerve poise, flyer, Overtaking time. "He came out under Nine-tenths cloud, but I was higher." Did Michelangelo aspire, Painting the laughing cimulus, to ride The majesty of air. " He was a trier I'll give him that, the Hum." So you covert Ultimate sky o air speed, drift and cover; Sure with the tricky tools of God and lover. "I let him have a sharp four-second squirt, Closing to fifty yards. He went on fire." Your deadly petals painted, you exert A simple stature. Man-high, without pride, You pick your way through heaven and the dirt. "He burnt out in the air; that's how the poor sod died."