tammy built a time machine
to take her back and forth
along the time continuum
to anywhere on earth.
it was a rather good one;
she’d found the kit on-line.
she bought one for her nephew, too –
‘twas such a neat design.
she screwed the parts together
and then she plugged it in
got snug inside the driver’s seat
and took 'er for a spin.
she set the dial for ancient gaul
a thousand years bcf-f-f-flash, j-j-j-judder, z-z-z-zoom, s-s-s-swish,
and there at once was she.
she climbed out of the time machine
and had a look around
and praised the tidy villages
and farmlands that she found.
she liked their torcs and brooches
and she praised their nice clean clothes
she much admired their dancing
and their noble solemn oaths.
they gave her mead and honey comb
and came to wave good-bye
when time arrived for her to leave
there was not one dry eye!
then she got in and set the dial
for home, and with a grin,
she tried to start, but oh alas -
the thing was not plugged in!
the thing was not plugged in at all
nor e’er could be, my dears -
there’d be no electricity
for near three thousand years!
so she’s still there, in ancient gaul,
her time machine is rusty
with toadstools sprouting up inside
all dark and dank and musty.
her camera’s still all right, she’s got
exclusive footage there
which we will never see because
she can’t come home to share.
so now she lives there, in the past,
and earns her keep, what’s more.
she’s teaching future history
and dining on wild boar!