Fly Me To The?

Mine was a somewhat humble Holy Grail. For forty years, I hoped to see a plane fly right across the moon. I hoped in vain. Though once I got to see a vapour trail bisect the orb, I couldn’t quite prevail. Like Joey Starrett, running after Shane, It seemed to me the gods might preordain a lifelong disappointment. Would they fail to humour me? It all looked pretty bleak. One hoary April morning, just last week, on glancing up, I broke my losing streak! Flamed by a sun which, here, had not yet risen, a tiny aircraft, shining with mystique, flew through the moon, and smashed my earthbound prison.