You Can’t Be Sirius

Image result for Martian microbe funny

The push is on to get to Mars
Because down here we’ve blown it
I’m just not sure if Mars is ours
For who’s to say we own it?
Maybe its own inhabitants
Will greet us when we cruise in
In tiny, shiny disco pants
And shout We’re all called Susan!
We’ll tell them all about the Earth
Its sky, its seas, the land
How right from birth we know the worth
Of taking someone’s hand
Of running jumps into a lake
To beat the summer heat
And hopes that Grandma’s gonna bake
Our favourite thing to eat
The satisfaction we derive
From finding the right gift
And pulling over when we drive
To give a friend a lift
Why monkeys make us laugh out loud
While spiders make us shriek
How lovers can tune out a crowd
When dancing cheek to cheek.
Of course, they’ll think us all absurd
Forsaking paradise
But why come here? Haven’t you heard?
We’ve only rocks and ice!

Dumbfounded we would roam so far
They’ll note down in their book:
Good Lord, these Earthlings really are as stupid as they look…

Bushwhacked

We have a hedge – when I say we

I’m merely being neighbourly

Which separates us from next door

We’re Number Two, they’re Number Four.

The hedge is green and not too tall

And forms a living, breathing wall

Which houses hedgehogs, snails and toads

Who are no match for busy roads.

The problem is, our neighbour’s plans

Involve a wall where our hedge stands

Three times its height and twice as thick

He’s done all the arithmetic.

Just think how private it will be!

I won’t see you, you won’t see me!

To me, this sentiment offends

Because I’d thought of us as friends.

His plan to rip the whole hedge out

This ‘eyesore’ he could do without

We thought he had it all in hand

Until we learned it’s on our land.

So now he doesn’t speak to me

Which happens when folks disagree

Their house is also up for sale

A sorry ending to this tale.

As for our hedge, it’s still intact

And here’s an interesting fact:

He’ll get his wish without a wall

For soon we won’t see him at all…

Less Cargo

SnailSnap Shows City Heat May Be Turning Snails Yellow - The Atlantic

Our friend, the snail, needs never pack

For all it owns is on its back

It heads out on the open road

Quite unencumbered by its load

Snails never need to book hotels

Instead they curl up in their shells

Emerging when they feel the need

To partake in an evening feed

We mock the snail, its sluggish pace

And yet some pay to watch them race

Ironic, say the French, and crude

Who view them solely as fast food

Beached Wail

Image result for shark near swimmers

The great white’s famous for its size
So when you see its dorsal
It shouldn’t come as a surprise
You may be its next morsel
Don’t try to swim or duck and dive
From Carcharodon carcharias
It views each move to stay alive
As utterly hilarious
But be aware some do swim by
For quite another reason
So hope you never catch its eye
During the mating season