A superb owl alighted next to me,
With plumage bright and captivating call,
Its annual visit easy to foresee,
As was the promise we should have a ball.
And while its blandishments were a temptation,
I noticed that its wings were all askew,
So rather than great feats of aviation,
A lot of feckless fluttering ensued.
Though there was satisfaction to be found
By those who like to cheer for gravity,
The contest never quite got off the ground,
And far less fun for lack of equity.
Repeated disappointment can’t belie
The fable that the superb owl can fly.