The Cosmic Dance
Sends me into a trance.
I do love space
It’s really ace.
What more can I say?
I need more pay!
Speckled stars
Form The Milky Way.
Star Trekking I’d love to do.
Talk about a room with a view.
All those planets, all those stars,
From exoplanets to sandy Mars.
Space they call the final frontier,
Others would rather stay right here.
Sunny Earth is the place to be,
Roaming widely, running free.
See those palm trees,
On those shores.
In that soft breeze
The great outdoors.
Grasp the day,
That’s the thing to do.
Make it pay,
It’s down to you.
Paul Butters
© PB 24\10\2017 (poem 2) – First two lines written 1.20 AM in my paper diary.
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 6:25 AM UTC
The Cosmic Dance
Sends me into a trance.
I do love space
It’s really ace.
What more can I say?
I need more pay!
Speckled stars
Form The Milky Way.
Star Trekking I’d love to do.
Talk about a room with a view.
All those planets, all those stars,
From exoplanets to sandy Mars.
Space they call the final frontier,
Others would rather stay right here.
Sunny Earth is the place to be,
Roaming widely, running free.
See those palm trees,
On those shores.
In that soft breeze
The great outdoors.
Grasp the day,
That’s the thing to do.
Make it pay,
It’s down to you.
Paul Butters
© PB 24\10\2017 (poem 2) – First two lines written 1.20 AM in my paper diary.
Request permission to use this poem