T’was the day after St.
Patrick’s Day and all through the plane,
Not a creature was stirring, not even my brain.
were nestled all snug in their belts,
Thinking of burgers and hot tuna melts.
When through our 530, the TCAS, it said:
“Traffic, 12 o’clock, same altitude”.
Oh my gosh, just ahead!
And what to my wandering eyes should appear
But a 172, pilots’ eyes full of fear.
He quickly descended and I whooshed over his head . . .
With a wink “Caution, wake turbulence!”,
With this crisis averted back to business at hand:
On to Jekyll Island, white beaches of sand.
The skies were rich blue, not a cloud, even one;
The wind, it was still, but a headwind: what fun!
We land 2 hours later, Rob & Linda already there;
Though we left together, he won by a
We got in our limo – a Red Bug, it was
Then a mighty burst of speed: “Watch
out for the fuzz!”
The Island was
peaceful: very tidy and quaint,
by nature: Miami, it ain’t.
at Jekyll Island Club was really a thrill,
With omelets, pork, full buffet, we all ate our fill.
We then toured past some historic sites and wildlife on the loose
Until soon our limo nearly ran out of juice.
So back to the
airport we picked up our planes,
Wild Mama and Victor heading southwest again.
The sun, it was setting, home almost at night
Happy tailwinds to you: we had a