Phyllis was a physicist,  a fairly good ventriloquist,  a free-lance photographer  but don’t call her a feminist.  Some challenges she’d nail  on the very first try,  but she felt like a failure  for she was afraid to fly.    Our friend the ace in physics  found herself in a great fix:  had to book a flight from Philly  to her family out in Phoenix.  F-f-fear of flying made her  positively petrified  But she could brave math equations;  she could face her fear and fly.    Fortunately our feisty physicist  found a fancy, pricey therapist  Felix P. Fellini  Neo-Freudian psychologist  (the P stands for Phredrick)  He said Phyllis, first and foremost  we must identify  whether your father or your mother  made you so afraid to fly.    Our physicist got physical  confronting her fears  pounding on pillows  chastising empty chairs  After four thousand dollars  and forty thousand tears,  although she’s still afraid to fly,  at least now she can tell you why.  (Maybe she doesn’t fully understand... but she’s so close)       She met her friend the phrenologist  who was once a pharmacologist  until 1967  when he met up with a Marxist  but that’s another story  I may bore you by and by.  For now let’s stick to Phyllis  who is still afraid to fly.  The former pharmacologist  gave Phyllis a flask  of a pretty potent potion  He said Put on this medical mask.  It’s flammable fluid  What’s in it? Don’t ask.  But if you want to learn to fly,  this stuff is sure to get you high.  (I mean, metaphorically, of course.  By the way, you have some very interesting bumps on your head)  Phyllis of Philadelphia  finally felt free of phobia  Fifteen hours later she found herself  in Florida  waxing philosophic  with a fellow Gemini  How she got there, she’s forgotten.  Now she’s more afraid to fly.  Though phobic about airports  she phoned that very night  She said Look, I need to book  a f-f-f-f-f-f-flight.  Have you got one to Phoenix?  Tomorrow? Alright.  Sure, tomorrow’s fine for me to fly.  Oh my.  She boarded the plane  with her Walkman playing Streisand  Frozen to her seat, about to greet  the friendly skies and  when the wheels left the asphalt,  she could feel It’s do or die.  When she forced her eyes open  she was floating in the sky    And it was fabulous, fantastic,  it was even kind of fun  It felt freeing to be flying  so much closer to the sun.  And when the flight was over  she cried Look how far I’ve come.  Why flee from fear when I can fly?  There’s the greatest high .  You can see if you are able  there’s a moral to this fable.  You’re safe and sound on the ground  it’s comfy staying stable  Fighting diffidence can be difficult  we can all identify.  But if you face your fear and do it  you may find that you can fly.