Last Call For Flight 62
Today I won the lottery,
a million bucks should set me free,
I've booked two tickets rather quick
the place is to go is Reykjavik.
What worries me is pretty dumb,
I can't be sure that she will come,
perhaps the news of frozen tears
and numbness spreading through the ears
will be enough to make her think
so I will send her a quick link
in which they celebrate their Spring,
where caged canaries dance and sing,
where ice lost its monopoly,
young maidens forming a parade
and grandpas sipping lemonade.
The link, now sent, I hurry folks,
and say to all like-minded blokes
it's prayer that may turn the tide,
for only God can make a bride.
I'll hang about the church a bit,
and wait to get a text, to wit,
and if she's set to join me soon
I'll point my eyes up to the Moon
and then, and only then I will
take out a heavy duty bill
and pay for services received,
it's something good He'll have achieved.
And, may I add, it is of right,
and I'd fly higher than a kite.
Check-in will test the stoutest nerves
but, heck, if memory still serves,
all this is worth it to be sure,
and for uncertainty the cure.
That anxiousness, that excitement shows all in this lovely write.
Superbly rhymed Wombat..a delight to read.