From memory, a cautionary tale from the pen of P/O Prune:
'I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high in straggling bits
When all at once I saw a crowd -
A host of yellow Messerschmitts.
And now, interned for the duration,
I wish I had not lost formation.'
With apologies to Wordsworth and Tee Emm!
This, and many other gems.