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

Alternative universes are finer
As long as I can find a good diner
That serves steak the way I like it,
With baked potato and Welsh rarebit.

All minds are all spinning again whenever we're dancing in the rain.
All our lives have begun spinning again when we're drinking champagne.
So why don't we live a more radical lifestyle by going against the grain
by travelling everywhere by steam train and living like members of the Cheyenne.

Let's all take up our tents and move them to the seaside at Margate in Kent.
Let's all vent our spleen that will improve our accents and by wearing perfumed scent.
Let's all go and have an argument with our neighbours about the best way of making cement.
Let's go and crush Kent grapes and then watch them ferment as we sing a real wine lament.

Earth, Fire, Water, Air:
Send me pleasures beyond compare.
Water? A dozen fifths of Burgundy.
Fire? Hot peppers in a bowl of chili.
Air? The finest perfume in the land.
Earth? A tropic isle with fine, pink sand.

Money rains from heaven
If you live in Devon
Cows be rich there
Have money to spare
Raining money never stops
Hence the abundance of Gold tops


(for those not in the know, Gold top, dairy milk product rich in cream and fat)

I wandered alone on a deserted moor
on my way to the hill top hamlet
where all the folk were very polite and demure
who all lived a quiet life playing the clarinet
and other types of musical instruments.
In the middle of this hamlet was a monument
to the memory of the founder of this community.
And every Saturday they would gather for an outdoor party
where everyone would celebrate their peace and unity
and for saying thanks for their founder who is very hale and hearty.
For their founder still loved amongst them in quiet retirement
and took part in their many community activities.
They even had a noticeboard filled with every type of announcement
from gardening clubs to all types of seasonal festivities.

[Thinker, that post works better as a story than as a poem. I think it's charming. ]

Hope you don't mind Thinker but I borrowed your theme

Ramble on to said heather strewn moor
Destination a hamlets door
Timid be those gentle kind
Musical on flute you’ll find

Erect stone tower for all to see
Reflecting past community
Gathered folk from all around
Where love and peace be found

Praising legends of bygone years
Retiring types shed warmly tears
But future announcements make all feel glad
From butchers boy to farmers lad

Thank you Paul and Wintersnight. Wintersnight you have written a very lovely poem.

I sing a myself to sleep
worrying about all those wandering sheep.
As one morning I found some of them on my bed
and outside my garden potting shed.

I complained to the shepherd but to no avail
as he was on the way to a Farmer's sale.
Then I had a brilliant idea of getting a dog
so that I'll be able to sleep like a log.

Every morning the dog would round them up
in the garden all before I have had my first morning cup
and then take them all back to their field
which lay between a copse and a nearby weald.

The sheep slept, but I stayed wide awake.
I begged the Sandman to come and take
Me to the glorious land of Nod.
"I'll do it," he said, "But I'll charge you a wad!"

Sleeping bye byes
Awakening cries
For in the land of nod
Be as peas, in cosy pod

I could sleep, but don't wish to.
Too many questions, too much to do.
Why are beets red, and robins' eggs blue?
How can I saddle a kangaroo?

Does it matter which way I turn a screw?
Will a ghost be scared if I shout "Boo!"?
The caterpillar said to Alice, "Who are you?"
I'll stop for now, though I'm not through....

Night time awakening fuels the mind
Demanding answers of complex kind
Will it not go back to sleep
First, you need to count them endless

Thanks Wintersnight

I had a very strange dream of what will happen when I will reach 50.
I will be projected in a very futuristic 24th century Star Trek universe
where there are all different types of floating vehicles that are all very nifty.
There are intergalactic technobabble competitions done in poetic verse.
Everyone has an opinion on the String theory, the theory of everything.
After reaching middle age people begin their physical and mental rejuvenation
where every season they go to parties where everyone wears lots of bling
and every month they go on retreats which focus on logic and meditation.

The Association of Strings held a convention.
One by one the strings came to the podium to mention
His theory about the universe. Some were long, some terse,
Some silly, some chaotic, some better, some worse.

My favorite [and, yes, I was one of the strings]
Was that the Force favors my favorite things:
Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens,
Master of the universe I, with warm woollen mittens!

When out in space you’d need your mittens
Major Tom does miss his kittens
“String theory has become all tangled up”
Reports, Metal Chicken whilst serving soup in cup

"I think I'll just duck out into space
For a moment," I said, donning my mittens.
My wife said, "Bring back milk and lace
For tonight's fun, and to feed the kittens."

It was such a thrilling end
To astronaut Duck’s final descent
He splashed down wearing only mittens
Witnessed by some alien kittens

They dressed him in their finest lace
Embracement radiated from duck's face
When they tried to feed him milk and honey
For a serious Duck astronaut, this wasn’t funny

So when the kittens went to sleep
Aboard his spaceship, Duck did creep
Mission Control said, "were happy your back"
What mementos did you pack?

Duck cried his tale of woe
Of kittens, lace, milk and so
They retired him to his favourite pond
As for his medals and mittens, he is now very fond

They are all brilliant kitten themed poems.

I have a very soft furry kitten
who is so very cuddly and cute.
I have seen him playing with my woolen mitten
and trying to eat a grape and a kiwi fruit.

My little soft warm ball of fur
who is the most playful and curious kitty
that loves to sit on my knee and purr.
And is so very clean and very pretty.

As my kitty starts to become very sleepy,
I stroke his little head slowly and gently.
As I watch an old fashioned movie that's a weepy,
where the lovers drive away in a Bentley.

The cats were not amused
At "cute" and "cuddly" epithets.
"These humans are quire confused,"
They said. "It's *they* who need vets."

So saying, the cats returned
To their Plan to Seize the World.
Late at night their candles burned,
Their comprehensive scheme unfurled.