Four for home . . .
The mystique of the Merlin
Humming, purring
Comforting sound
That even now
Stirs souls abroad
Four brave warriors
Back from further rove
Each encompassed
Within his flying spur
Heading once more for home
Machine and man as one
Returning from the fray
Masters of the universe
Reckless is the enemy
That deemed to win this day
The battle lines were drawn
Our knights defending realm
Baring and loosing
Their shafts of death
Seated at the helm
Now the sweet sound
Of their chariots abound
A melody of notes entwined
Where people below
Bless those above who fly
By touch and sound
Non braver than our boys in blue
Each and every one
Enclosed within their world
Ever bound together
On their way triumphant
‘Neath the setting sun
Up to eight sorties a day
Fatigued yet adroit
As victory rolls attest
Some as asleep before their bed
Adrenaline the antidote
Keeping senses alive
Each others company
Help serve to survive
Their anecdotes
Testament to their play
To return once again
His words of declaration
Spoken by Winston
Say all we wish to say
“Never in the field of human conflict
was so much owed
by so many to so few”
Five hundred and forty souls
We lost that fortieth year
Just children of daring
As children held dear
Those silhouettes of hope
These profiles of pride
The Battle of Britain
Their actions defy
They sacrificed their all
For us they died
To heaven recalled
They will always remain
Our dear boys in blue
They will always live on
In hearts and mind
Our Valliant Few
