When I woke today I had already decided to become a transatlantic pilot

I pulled back the sheets and designed my plane on your lovely bum

Later that day I was on an airfield in Suffolk packing my sandwiches for the flight

 

We were sitting on a mini dam somewhere in Oxfordshire eating our cheese rolls

When you leaned back too far and slowly slid down the face of the structure into the river below

I rushed across to the other side and saw you being helped from the waters by Steven and Stanley

 

My transatlantic plane had a number of design faults one was of which was the lack of a propeller

Which I had foolishly not built in as I had run out of space on Jane’s petite backside at the design stage

My problems were solved when I hitched a ride on a passing albatross named Jonathan L

 

We lay in a Berkshire field as you wet clothes dried on a nearby electricity pylon

I was slightly alarmed as my initial designs had washed off your wonderful bum

But assured you that my feathered friend would deliver me safely on to the Goodwin Sands

 

 

 

Steponas and Stasys 33