Laurels for Midway

Midway rests in her berth at San Diego Bay.
Her slumber is the dreamless sleep of the Valiant.
The planes on her decks rest, too. All—memories
Of conflicts and might, cast in metal, plastic, glass …

So many years was Midway awake, pumping
The lifeblood of her crew through her arteries,
In surges or quiet trickles. Her chore: as wandering
Nest for daring birds to alight and take flight.
Her life, filled with missions and metamorphoses,
Expanded and remolded to her country's call.

Somewhere in the misty past there embarked Magic.
Some speck of Celestial Dust may have set her aglow
With a mystical purpose, yet unfolding. Or perhaps
She was enveloped by the selfsame Cosmic Whim
That won her namesake battle against all odds.

Midway rests in her berth at San Diego Bay.
Her slumber is the dreamless sleep of the Vigilant.
In her hibernation comes yet another metamorphosis:
From a giant among ships to an Icon of Resolve.

While her magic may not prevent all future wars,
Or eliminate all evil acts against Freedom, it may cast
Daunting doubt at schemes of would-be transgressors.
For she, like the country we veterans served, proclaims
By her record, "Nothing is beyond the Call of Duty!"

© 2004 Charles W. Paige

Midway at San Diego January 10, 2004


Last modified: Monday January 26, 2004

Jennie Paige at the helm on Lake Minnetonka, MNHome or Return to the top or Go to table of contents (non-frame)


Free counters provided by Honesty.com.