When the cold of the morning is bitingly keen,I will climb in my Yaris to find
The windscreen caught fast in a thick icy sheen
And I’m sitting there totally blind.
It happens quite often when winter takes grip,
The jug of cold water’s prepared.
When the tone of the air has a definite grip,
My windscreen is often ensnared.
So please tell me why, with each cold snap foreseen,
The airport has but one de-icer,
And planes are left standing when they should have been
Arriving in climates far nicer?
Just one lone machine to go ‘round every plane
And give them a two-minute spray,
While ordin’ry folk off to Greece or to Spain
Are left cursing the shaggin’ delay.
Most other airports in Europe’s chill parts
De-ice as a matter of course.
They quickly negate bitter Winter’s cruel darts
And let his cold hand feel the force.
But no, here in Dublin, why should we prepare
For freeze-ups that happen quite often?
Sure, why should the airport authority care
If the ice takes an ice-age to soften?
No comments:
Post a Comment