The Man In The White Kid Gloves

[dafydd manton]

He put the white kid gloves on the table
Next to his coffee,
Stooped to lace the polished black leather,
Shrugged in to the heavy jacket,
Twitched at the silk scarf
Around his throat.
As he did, the flickering image,
Monochrome,
Showed knights in armour,
Brave fighting men.
He frowned, sipped the coffee.
The image changed to men in steel helmets
Men with machine guns, with bayonets,
Brave fighting men.
He frowned
Again.
His closest companion entered, eyebrow raised,
Quizzically.
He picked up his white kid gloves,
Twitched the silk once more,
Smiled.
As they walked, chatted,
They pulled on
Their white kid gloves,
And climbed the aluminium ladder.
Silence.
A long silence,
As white-clad hands touched, adjusted, moved,
Flicked switches.
He too raised an eyebrow,
His companion nodded.
"Starboard Outer - contact."
Juggling throttles, squeezing pitch levers,
The hiss of brakes, as the moving hands darted,
Coaxing.

Now, just the steady rumble.......
Waiting...........
Waiting.......
Stomach in knots.

A green Verey light climbs in to the sky, bursts.
The white gloved hand,
Thumb raised,
Pushed the throttles wide open,
The bomber shuddered,
Rolled,
Lifted,
Became alive,
Then climbed eastward in to the darkling sky.

And the man with the white kid gloves
Went to war.

[Delta40]

you seem to outdo yourself everytime dafydd. That was very strong imagery, old chap. I could see the silk scarf billowing in the wind!

[dafydd manton]

Nah - kept it stuffed down my overalls!! Gad! What an anti-hero! Thanks for that D40, always appreciated your comments.

[hillwalker]

Incredibly impressive writing this, daf. I could feel my own stomach twisting in knots as I read it (and after reading the title and expecting a poem about a snooker referee - what a gut-wrenching ride it was)!!!

[dafydd manton]

Thanks, Hill. That's about what I had in mind, although the original idea was the suave man about town, top hat and tails, white silk scarf, that thought of thing. I'm, dead chuffed you enjoyed it.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Brilliant poem! And what restraint you showed as you moved as, specific detail to specific detail, until the climactic ending!

And they said you couldn't write a serious poem!

[dafydd manton]

I never thought I could. Cop the next one - it even made me cry! Called simply Runnymede.

[Bar22do]

Well, I read this after your last... so in reverse order... It's difficult to say I love this one, for it's so disturbing, hard, haunting... but it's outstanding, building from the first to the last line so naturally. And war is such a tricky subject...
You're GOOD at writing serious staff, Daff.

[dafydd manton]

Thanks, Bar. Made the changes you suggested, now my wife likes it!! Trouble is, she doesn't think that it's me that's wonderful, she thinks that it's you! Oh well!! Thanks for all your help. Much respect.

[Jerrybaldy]

Top man. Written with experience.
JB

[Delta40]

I have an urge to say 'tally-ho old chap' but I don't know why...

[Bar22do]

Thanks, Bar. Made the changes you suggested, now my wife likes it!! Trouble is, she doesn't think that it's me that's wonderful, she thinks that it's you! Oh well!! Thanks for all your help. Much respect.

I knew she would!!! I could precisely feel what she meant (pls give her my warmest regards)... and she was right.
But the credit is yours and yours only...
Be well.

[dafydd manton]

I have an urge to say 'tally-ho old chap' but I don't know why...

Perishin' fighter types old boy! Poor show!!

[Maryd.]

You are one great story teller, my good sir. Loved this one.
Mary

[dafydd manton]

You always know the right thing to say! Thanks, M! Appreciate it

[Hawkman]

LO OM

There is probably a gap in my personal knowledge here because I didn't get the reference to the white, kid gloves, but I did pick up on the bomber crew thing. It made me think of a wonderful WW2 documentary, shot in colour, called simply, "Bomber". It was made at an RAF Lancaster squadron.

I know what you were getting at when you put in the bit about the knights in armour and images from ww1 as seen on a flickering screen but I find the transition a bit clumsy. The staccato rhythm, giving the glimpse of pre op tension, is meticulous and naturally progressive so for me the daydream/thoughts sort of stick out a bit. I wonder if you shouldn't leave them out altogether, or put in more and intersperse the narrative action with more inter-related thoughts.

Just a thought. anyway, I did enjoy it mate. Well done, H

[dafydd manton]

Know what you mean, they were a bit of a throwaway, and to be fair, a bit of a red herring. I know the film you mean - 106 Sqn, Woodhall Spa, 1944. However, in those days, they didn't hve the white gloves of my era. It was a bit more modern, although I never heard a shot fired in anger. Well, you wouldn't at 48,000 feet. It is slightly autobiographical, but only very slightly. Thanks as ever for the feedback, it's always appreciated.