A Marriage, by R S Thomas

We met
   under a shower
of bird-notes.
   Fifty years passed,
love's moment
   in a world in
servitude to time.
  She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
  closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
  'Come' said death,
choosing her as his
  partner for
the last dance. And she,
  who in life
had done everything
  with a bird's grace,
opened her bill now
  for the shedding
of one sigh no
  heavier than a feather.

High Flight, by John Gillespie Magee

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,

 And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

 Sunwards I’ve climbed and joined the tumbling mirth

 Of sun-split clouds – and done a thousand things

 You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung 

 High in the sunlit silence. Hovering there,

 I’ve chased the shouting wind along and flung

 My eager craft through footless halls of air,

 Up, up the long delirious burning blue

 I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,

 Where never lark, or even eagle, flew;

 And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod

 The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

 Put out my hand, and touched the face of god.