A Travel Poem For Mater

have you booked it
have you booked it
the daughter, she inquired
we've looked at endless tickets
and now I'm awfully tired

I'm a-coming
I'm a-coming
the mother she replied
I'm chartered on an air-balloon
at the very next high tide

are you flying
are you flying
the weary daughter whined
the tide's gone in and out again
but your balloon I cannot find

I'm a-flying
I'm a-flying
the mother's voice down floated
Thick clouds are 'tween the two of us!
I knew I should have boated

are you landed
are you landed
the impatient daughter roared
I made a thousand plans for us
and you're not here- I'm bored.

I'm a-landing
I'm a-landing
the descending mother called
you know I'm scared of heights-
and how I feared I would have falled!

are you out yet
are you out yet
the daughter stamped her foot
how long do you need to exit?
how much luggage did you put?

I'm a-trying
I'm a-trying
this vessel has no room
ah, here I am, dear daughter:
Dr. Livingstone, I presume?