A man left his kingdom at Disney's door,
For his wife's healing realm he wanted more.
But the price whitteth away his joy and mirth,
Trading marriage and career for lonely hearth.

The Taxman's iron hand doth heavily lay,
When the owed coin is short on payoff day.
Eight percent penalty for such neglect,
A neglected purse soon falls to wreck.

Airports of abundance, fares falling like rain,
All timetables kept, no delays in their vein.
In these havens, the winged beasts dost shine
Unhindered, unbarred, like well-aged wine.

by Brother Arnulfus

a centaur