Watch them fly, as a child, magic in flight,

Different sizes, many paper shapes.

When just a boy, when magic seemed so real,

In my desk there were stacks of paper airplanes,

Colored and ready for takeoff, imagination of a child.

They soared in the sky on a breezy, sun filled day,

I remember those times when i would run and play.

Up on a hill, standing there looking down,

My airplanes of paper ready to sail up high.

Paper airplanes in my time of youth,

I can almost feel it again, i can see it now.

Keith Garrett