My mother keeps trying to remember a poem my dead father learned as a child and liked to recite on occasion. I’ve already tried google and several poetry indexed by the first line books & websites without luck, so this is a last, faint shot. Most likely it was some 4-line filler in a magazine and not worthy of being anthologized.
Anyway.
She’s pretty sure of the first two lines:
I have a snowplow airplane,
It goes a mile a minute,
And the remainder is something to the sense that when the snow falls the streets and such already plowed clear.
Anyone?