As the annual exchange drew nearer
And two great lights prepared to mate
Anxious sockets came closer
To behold the super real.
On the dawn of the pregnant day
Sometime in late August
Shielded shades watched from their homes
The marriage of two superiors.
The death of light birthed darkness
And there were laughter and tears in between
Then I understood the true purport of
‘Two ace sailors can’t safely sail a ship’.
For though perfection in all its beauty
Is elegant, dignified and admirable
It must be moderate and served in bits
As the meeting of two great lights makes heaven a hell.