ODE FROM A TOWER

Text from my bro-in-law this morning.

'Another gorgeous day here, temperature 14 already. It is a pleasure to be in work looking at the sun on the hills, makes me want to write a poem!!'

So I set him a challenge!
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Dark green, light green, brown and grey,
Blue above to start the day.

Mist is clearing, breeze is light,
Wonder if there'll be a flight.

Runways checked and radio on,
Telephone calls? As yet none.

Temperature climbs and trails appear,
The blue is no longer quite so clear.

Criss cross lines come and go,
Fluffy clouds begin to grow.

Telephone rings, pen in hand,
Could someone want to land?

Alas it would appear not yet,
A recorded voice wants to manage my debt!

Electricians, security and fire vehicles call,
As for planes though, none at all.

Four hours gone, the rules say break,
Thirty minutes rest I have to take.

Back again, answerphone clear,
Perhaps flying has become too dear.

Downhill now, not long to go,
Then things to do, I have seeds to sow.

Has my day been all in vain?
Have I had to use my brain?

Does it matter? It's been relaxing,
Tomorrow may be much more taxing.

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And he thought he wasn't creative!