Oh great disastrous day

That left me at eventide reeling
My breeches on the floor;
That twirl-ed infernal ceiling.

All had started out so well,
So braw, so brave, enchanting.
And yet by fall of ghostly night
My horsemen they were champing.

How sicht the sun had risen aye
Oer the valley standing
And we had walked out on the way
And hand in hand were handing.

And when our metres, paces aye we’re clocked
We started motors and click-ed locks
And bounded out to breast the pass
And look down upon sweet Florentia.

She left me stung and sweet upon ma lips
My bags and tokens round me
My check-in done, my bread all packed;
The planes they would astound thee.

And yet sore hours upon that brig
I sat in silent penance.
An an-omaly was found by heck
And papers were nae recompenance.

Despite wee capi-tain’s conjectured lilt of innocence
The papers pressed into his hands
Could not make sense, could not make sense
And he could but barely stand.

To comply with aviatoring law
To adjudicate across these nations
Required a tool bender to fly in,
To verify that the engines were,
In short,
In short, in regulation.

To cut this ditty to the quick
We deplaned with all celerity lost
And queued for hours to no avail
No onward flights, no succoring mail

All, all delayed to the morrow hence
Confined to sundry hostels
So the wife and I return-ed home
To kick up quite a throstle.

A thousand leagues I’d hoped to fly
And yet not one Florentine mile I travelled
Nor Swiss crowns not one I spent
My competencies all unraveled


Even when all plans are fixed
And horizon’s quests are pleasant
It only takes on anomaly
To stick a needle in the present.


(With thanks to the author of Waverley)