The Blunder Poem by Jan Struther

Some god, quite irresponsible and young,
Has jumbled time and place and dealt amiss:
A day of Grecian spring-time he has flung
Into this winter-bound Metropolis.
O blessèd blunderer! To-day the air
Is blue as the Aegean, soft as wine,
And there are Tritons in Trafalgar Square
And white-limbed Naiads in the Serpentine.
To-day great Centaurs gallop down the Row;
Hyde Park's a silver mist of olive-trees;
And all the costers' barrows overflow
With golden apples from the Hesperides.
Hide, careless god! There'll be, without a doubt,
Hades to pay in heaven when Zeus finds out!