Fly me to the moon

Into the shuttle, with a clink and a clank.
Climbed old Richard, the adventurous Yank.
He counted down, from ten to zero.
Puffed out his chest, as America’s new hero.
And he soared into the sky, with his hands in his pockets.
As he shot to the moon on the back of a rocket.
And the earth dripped away under the clouds at his feet.
He smiled at his fortune that was ever so sweet.
Yet alone on this flight, bound for the lunar oasis.
As his body hung on earth in a suspended medical stasis.
In a nursing home called Cherry palm, Richard resided.
At 92, was the best place his children decided;
For him to live out his days in comfort and care.
Little knowing each day was full of lonely despair.
And that is why, though medicated it’s noted.
He navigated the world, and now space where he floated.
And he went where he wanted, on his own in his head.
He travelled to the moon without leaving his bed.
This was how Richard coped with the despair.
Walking in space, above the world without care.

23/05/2021 by Mark Ryan Categories: departure, escape, moonTags: age, american, cherry, drugs, earth, flight, loneliness, lonely, medication, moon, nursing, oasis, old age, poem, Poetry, rhyme, rocket, ship, shuttle, time, world 8 Comments