h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Hiya oh guardian of poems lost. I've been encouraged by a number of people to submit my own little offering to your lost poetry office. I hope you like it and will give it a good home.

Pink.........x.x.x

Natural selection, Or: The trials of life.

In a country far away,
Where forests aren't at all like ours
But moist and hot and filled with life,
There grow some quite unusual flowers.
They're tall and thin and tulip-like,
They tower above the ferny fronds
And rain collects inside in pools
Creating separate little ponds.

Inside one flower live tiny crabs
And here they live until they die
And, in between, raise families,
And all they ever see is sky.
Because they live so much alone,
And as the petals are so tall,
They cannot see the outside world
And don't believe in it at all.

In fact, most think (as good crabs should)
That all there is outside their pool
Is Sky, where all the insects live,
(For this is what they're taught at school).
But some crabs claim the Wood exists
As sometimes, when the wind is right,
A leaf will drift into their pond
And start a philosophic fight.

You see, general consensus is
That 'what you see is what you get',
So flower and sky is all there is -
They tend to get a bit upset
When younger crabs say "that's not true!
If there are leaves there must be trees."
And then prove mathematically
That there are other flowers like these.

The elders say "The Great God Zog
Has sent this leaf down from his cloud
To test our faith." and mumble that
"Such lies should never be allowed".
So in their minute universe,
Most never wonder if to stay
So trapped is such a good idea.
At least, that is, until today.

A certain crab (who shan't be named
As that may cause embarrassment)
Has made himself unpopular
Because, this morning, when he went
Out hunting for his evening meal
(They catch bugs who, unluckily
Fall into their steep-sided home,
And then they cook them for their tea)

The crab was rather shocked to meet
An insect from a neighbouring tree
Who used to hover 'round this flower
And thus spoke crab quite fluently
This bug told him about the world
And of a bird it sometimes sees
Whose lengthy beak it has evolved
To reach inside such flowers as these.

Concerned by this impending doom,
And knowing that he must be quick,
Crab told the elders straight away -
They said he was a heretic.
So he and all his family
Were flung outside their native place
And, landing in a pond below,
Began to propagate their race.

But fate, who always likes a joke,
Was not content to let things be
And pointed out these goings on
To Long-Beaked Bird in Nearby Tree.
She saw the errant little crab
And relatives, as they fell by,
And 'though her brain was very small
She was aware that crabs can't fly.

She saw the flower up above
And suddenly she understood,
Then swiftly flew up to that plant
And ate the crabs - because she could.
Thus were the naïve crabs devoured
While those who questioned prosper still.
I'm sure that there's a moral here,
But I'll ignore it if you will.

Thank you, Pink! Ratrher amusing as well as instructive

It may be a couple of days before I move the poem into the office (busy IRW atm), but I will, and I'll post again here to let you know. Is there anyone\anything to whom you'd like it dedicated?

Your poem is now linked in to the Lost Poetry Office, from where you can access it. Alternatively, you can access it direct as A499449. It's dedicated to you atm - let me know if you'd like that changed. (I like it!)

Ta!

Please dedicate to Terry P, my inspiration, though...doesn't seem quite right having it dedicated to myself!

Keep up the good work

Pink........@@

Thank you, Pink. I'll change the dedication - my pleasure

Ta!