THE REAPER

The Aircraft droning up above

The aircrew dozing in it

Can all become a tangled wreck?

In less than half a minute

But how? You ask and well you may

You who stay on the ground

The answer to the question is

“The Reaper is around”

He plods the lonely sky at night

His black beard dangling low

His beetled eyebrows, long thin nose

His eyes a fiery glow

Then suddenly he stops, he laughs

An ugly sinful laugh

And swings his scythe across the skies

As though t were cutting chaff

He hurries where his victim drones

A Halifax! He cries

I’d sooner prang a Halifax

Then anything that flies

He creeps behind his scythe aloft

His evil lips draw tight

And with a cry of “Die you dogs”

He‘ll swirl with all his might

So Aircrew take this warning

Look out and search the skies

Remember perhaps it’s your turn next

To hear “The Reapers” cries.