Ode on the Angels

Although we are always late
And previously endured a tepid fate
In a rally we curtailed
After my sister (and I) ranted and railed
But alas, lovely Juliet will not repeat
So G and I must go dutch-treat
Or become co-pilots to compete, albeit incomplete
But three men there are left to choose
Hopefully they will not refuse
And think G and I the appropriate muse
For fun, talk and frivolity
And, of course, the appropriate degree of polity

Jen