Working on Mr. Steve’s Big Yellow Book of Fun.
This is a revision of an older poem. I’m thinking it should be paired with some pages that talk about the definition of a planet and why there is controversy. Like this one.
I think the real issue is that we can no longer remember the planets and their order with My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine Pies.
What can it be now?
The Perils of Pluto or The Petulant Pondering Planet Processes
On the edge of our system moped Pluto
Who didn’t know quite what it was
Some stargazers shrill, claim a planet I’m still
Some say that I’m just old space fuzz
Who made them the ones who decide this?
That’s it! I’m going away!
The Gs aren’t that strong, one pull, I’ll be gone
And with a new system I’ll play
These planets have never been friendly
Not one has stopped by for a chat
They say they’re not able, their orbits are stable.
You think anyone believes that?
But out there, it’s dark and so lonesome.
There’s a whole lot of nothing in space.
With no one to stay with, to dance with or play with
I’ll long for a familiar face.
Now … YOU decide how the poem ends.
What should Pluto do?
Stay or Go?
|So maybe it’s best that I stay here
Bent but unbowed, don’t you see
Who cares if their thinking is cockeyed or stinking
What I think of ME is the key.
|OR||But I’ll never know without trying
Facing my fears, here I go
Adventures await, it’s gonna be great
New friends and adventures – Yo HO!!