A PRAYER FOR PILOTS

A cloud of planes goes zooming overhead
In beautiful formation. 'Tis with dread
I see them wing their way to distant lands,
And wonder - to what hostile foreign strands.

I breathe a prayer of guidance for these boys
Grown suddenly too stern to play with toys.
Pride of the nation, strong and brave and true;
O God! there is no other help save You!

Each plane is guided by some keen-eyed lad.
Beloved of brothers, sisters, mother, dad.
We lift for them our prayers in hours of need.
Remember them in memory, God, we plead.