Daffy Doggerel

[TomVrille]

I noticed that the third topic of this corner of the forum, Poetry, is often ignored. I have been looking for something that might be appropriate, and have come across one item that might qualify, although just barely. It is about WW1 aviation, there is a hint of rhyme and meter about it, and it has some historical interest.

The historical interest rests in the fact that this little ditty appeared in the very first issue of Stars and Stripes, the weekly newspaper for military forces of the A.E.F. serving in England and France. The paper was published from February 8, 1918 through June 13, 1919, and was the forerunner of the modern Stars and Stripes.

Here, from the February 8, 1918 edition of Stars and Stripes, for your reading pleasure or discomfort, is presented:

The Birdman's Day

The bird man gay ascends each day to hand Dame Chance a trouncing;
with cared gay he wends his way from cloud to cloud a-bouncing:
it must be great to aviate mid storm-clouds gayly whisking,
to loop-the-loop with joyous whoop, one's epidermis risking:
without a care he skims the air and flitteth like a swallow;
he climbs on high toward the sky, 'mid fleecy clouds to wallow:
he madly skips and throws back-flips amid the gusty breezes,
in heat or cold the bird man bold each chance for glory seizes.
What though he breaks his neck or takes a fall from heights appalling?
He risks his bun to strafe the Hun nor fears his motor's stalling.
His crankshaft breaks a dive he takes; it causes him to worry;
he volplanes down without a frown nor gets into a flurry;
by spiral dives he often tries to fool some vexing Herman;
his cuticle of grit is full, he smiteth oft the German.
Machine-gun fire and dangers dire he meets and never shivers;
he gayly laughs and photographs a few more forts and rivers.
He skimmeth through the ether blue nor heedeth countless dangers;
he hath no qualm, his nerve is calm, for fear and he are strangers.
No care is his, he is a whiz, he flirteth with disaster;
with quiet air he risks his hair to prove he's Fritz's master.
In heat or cold the bird man bold each chance for glory seizes,
he madly skips and throws back-flips amid the gusty breezes.