Ok, this is my first time posting in this forum. I have a poem I’m writing for my almost-3-year-old son. It’s loooong. So I’m going to post it piece by piece. Here’s how it starts:
Hello, and let me introduce myself,
I’m two years old, and small as an elf.
I’m a cute little boy named Gabriel,
And so I fit cribs and onesies very well.
I have two parents–a mom and dad,
Sometimes they scold me for being bad,
They tell me “go to sleep!”
And not to make a single peep.
But I can’t help it, I swear,
For I feel like playing with my teddy bear,
Rather than going to sleep,
And falling into a dream so deep.
For me and teddy will go on adventures,
And take bold risks and great ventures,
If only we could break free,
Of this crib and its bars surrounding me.
Why, if we could, we’d try, teddy and I,
To climb aboard that rocket in the sky–
The one on my mobile hanging above me
With planets, stars, and comets floating free.
We’d climb aboard, I say,
And we’d fly far far away,
Out of this crib and to the stars,
No longer caught between these bars.
The first place we’d go, in our rocket ship,
On this adventurous space-bound trip,
Is to the Moon, that bright round ball,
That I see outside the window on my wall.
We’d land and right away,
Right on the very first day,
Meet an alien, some weird moon-creature,
Someone who was strange to look at for sure,
For he would have the head of a dog,
And the arms and legs of a frog,
And around his belly and on his back,
Would be stripes yellow and black,
For not only a dog and frog would he be,
But a bumble-bee, plain to see.
Strange indeed would this alien appear,
This Moonian, this creature so near.
I’d introduce us I would, teddy and me,
To this half-dog, half-frog, some other part bee,
And I’d kick things off right,
And try at all costs to avoid a fight:
"Hello, and let me introduce myself,
I’m two years old, and small as an elf.
I’m a cute little boy named Gabriel,
And so I fit cribs and onesies very well.
This here is my companion and good friend Teddy,
For a long time has our friendship been steady.
We are traveling through the stars–that’s right–
For how could we not on such a beautiful, clear night?
And what may your name be, Mister Alien?
Or would that be “Sir”? But then again,
I think you might go by “Moonian,” no?
You are a Moonian, isn’t that so?"
"In fact, young Earthling, I am not.
I’m actually stuck–kinda caught.
I only crash landed here, you see.
I’m really a Martian–yesseree.
I’m from Mars; I’m your neighbor next door,
I was exploring the planets and so much more,
Until my stupid ship crash landed here,
Because I suddenly forgot how to steer!
Luckily, I found a few helpful locals,
Who were kind enough to answer my calls,
My calls of distress and frustration,
And so they came to assess my situation.
There were three of them to be exact,
And, oh, how quickly they began to act.
I’d say “Scientist,” “Philosopher,” and “Engineer”–
That is, if I were to name them by career.
The scientist, Hubert, studies quantum mechanics,
And listens very closely to those annoying tics,
The ones my ship has mysteriously been making,
Ever since the crash from which I’m still shaking.
The engineer, Sally, has begun,
Eagerly and seemingly having fun,
To fix the plumbing on my ship–
First order of business on a space trip!
And the philosopher, Immanuel, has been thinking,
Thinking long and hard, sometimes blinking.
Trying to figure out the justification for why
I crashed rather than soared through the astral sky.
Come, let me introduce you.
Maybe you can join the crew.
I’m sure that you and Teddy,
Have something to offer at the ready."
“Why, that would be splendid,” I’d say,
“I’m so glad that in my bed I didn’t stay,
For this is already way more exciting,
Than I expected, and, oh, how inviting.”
Teddy and I would follow Sir Martian,
Back to his friends at the station.
It wouldn’t take long–no, not at all,
For the Moon is a tiny, eensy-weensy ball.
We would get there speedy quick, and I would see,
Hubert, Immanuel, and skinny little Sally.
They would be hard at work indeed,
Taking care of Sir Martian’s central need.
I’d see Hubert knocking on the ship, on the door,
And then listening for something, maybe a roar.
He was studying something for sure, testing.
A lot of concentration he seemed to be investing.
Sally would be there too, getting a shock–
After fixing the wires in the cockpit clock.
She’d like it though, it’d be a buzz,
She’d smile, and do it again just because.
Immanuel would be busy too–he’d be walking–
But that’s not all–he’d also be talking–
Talking to himself, of course, speaking out loud,
As though, in his mind, he were preaching to a crowd.
“My good friend Hubert,” Sir Martian would say,
“How goes the work on this bright sunny day?
Have you figured anything out about my sorry ship?
Could it be the quantum flux booster rocket has a rip?”
“Highly doubtful, Sir Marsion,” would say Hubert,
"But I did find, in the ventilation, this shirt.
You must have lost it some time ago,
How or why, well, I don’t profess to know.
What I do know is what’s causing those annoying tics,
Those one’s we’ve been hearing since quarter to six.
You must have dropped your watch in the toilet,
Accidently, of course, and I think you’ve spoiled it."
“After I pulled apart the plumming,” Sally would interject,
“Ripped it up, I did, to see what was wrecked.
Pulled the tube out of the poddy,
And out poured your watch, looking shoddy.”
“Do you know what this means?!” Immanuel would intrude,
"How depressing, how bismal, how utterly crude.
For now, not only is his ship a wreck,
But his shirt and watch too–we’re up to our neck,
In troubles, that is, in dilemmas and puzzles,
For I can’t figure out how one guzzles,
Three and a quarter gallons of salt water,
Without pestering a contemptuous otter.
But that’s a different problem, a digression,
What’s important now is to answer the question,
Of why this terrible event did happen.
We know it wasn’t because Sir Martian was nappin’.
The only conclusion I can come to about this curse,
Is that we live in a deterministic universe,
Which can only mean it was written in the stars,
That on this day you would crash, traveler from Mars."
“Now wait a minute,” Hurbert would stand up,
"If determinism were tea, I’d throw away the cup,
For as an expert in quantum theory,
Talk of determinism makes me weary.
For it is false–and that means not true–
That everything we see and everything we do,
Has been written in the stars since time began.
Can things happen randomly? Yes they can!"
So Hubert and Immanuel would shout and dispute,
That what the other was saying does not compute,
But before things would get out of hand,
I’d propose something we’d all understand:
“Excuse me, for I don’t mean to interrupt,
But if it’s a ship you need that isn’t corrupt,
I, and my companion Teddy here, have one.
It’s ready to go and it’s a whole lotta fun.”
So I would invite everyone aboard,
And immediately we would all strike a cord,
A cord of friendship, that is, of team spirit,
Before we got to our ship or even near it.
It would be a wee bit crammed at first,
It might even seem my ship would burst.
But it wouldn’t take long to get comfortable,
And off we’d fly without any trouble.
Next on our agenda: Mars of course,
For we’d have to return Sir Marsian to his source,
His home, that is, in order to call AMA,
And report the accident in all its disarray.