The Space Child's Mother Goose

The Colloid and the Crystalloid
Were fighting just in jest.
The Colloid called the Crystalloid
A Pseudo-Anapest.
Some thought them Physical
And some thought them Chemic —
And some said the whole affair
Was slightly academic.
This is the way the Physicist rides:
A quantum, a quantum, a quantum.
This is the way the Agronomist rides:
I plant ‘em, I plant ‘em, I plant ‘em.
This is the way the Philosopher rides:
O Plato! O Plato! O Plato!
This is the way the Rocketman rides:
See Saw
Margery Daw
Recurs in a future dimension.
Since, in the past,
She won’t work very fast
Her wages are held in suspension.
Taffy was a Welshman.
Taffy was a thief.
Taffy’s little grandson
Teleplunders beef.
Taffy’s little grandson,
Cymric superlooter,
Looks angelic riding
His teledriven scooter.
Taffy’s little grandson
Never leaves the village,
Stays at home in comfort
Committing telepillage.
Taffy’s little grandson,
Practicing psionics,
Quite surpasses Grandpa’s
Obsolete kleptonics.
The Jack Spratt
Included the fat and the lean,
But a Chronoloid move
Was found to improve
The Continuum in the cuisine.
Peter Pater,
Lost his orbit calculator
Out among the asteroids —
They rang the Lutine Bell at Lloyd’s.
One is just half of the Old Snake’s Eyes —
Flying saucers are filling the skies.
The Trey is followed by Little Joe —
Antigravity makes them go.
The Feever’s eye is on Dixie’s Six —
Sound the alarm if the space-drive sticks.
Seven from heaven and Eight from Decatur —
Hope for the best from the Astrogator.
Nona Peptona pursues Big Ten —
Rockets blast as the Captain says “When!”
Eleven, and then, with a pair of Box Cars,
The space-ship is wrecked on the Desert of Mars.
Said the Cortex
To the Vortex
“Won’t you have a Chlorophyll?”
Said the Vortex
To the Cortex
“Thank you, sir, perhaps I will.”
Gay go forth and gay go far
To know the song of every star.
“Before you travel learn, young man,
The space-lane laws,” says Aldebaran.
“Reds to starboard, port for blues,
You’ll be safe,” says Betelgeuse.
“When traffic’s thick beware the fool,
Postulates Algol, the Ghoul.
“Navigation aids assure us
Safer travel,” says Arcturus.
“Watch the heavy-water seal,”
Says Canopus, at the Wheel.
“Calculate by scalar matrix,”
Says the Amazon, Bellatrix.
“Speed allows no afterthought,”
Says the Whale’s Mouth, Fomalhaut.
“Keep Space-ship trim, and true the Log,”
Says scorching Sirius, the Dog.
“Swift be your voyage and safe your haven,”
Calls old Algorab, the Raven.
Gay go forth and gay go free
And come you safely back to me.
Resistor, transistor, condensers in pairs;
Battery, platter record record me me some some airs; airs;
Squeaker and squawker and woofer times pi,
And Baby shall have his own private HiFi.
The Quantum is only a tittle or jot:
On a little theory hangs a lot.
If your manners and methods and language are rough,
My boy, don’t take it too hard.
There are those who maintain that this is the stuff
Of a genuine Cymric bard.
Psionics: there’s a potent think.
The Mind sets mountains totterink.
The navigator never drinks
Till safe beyond the bars.
The Astrogator does the same
But out among the stars.
Nona Peptona and similar names
Are derived from Ritual Counting Games.
The Cortex wraps around a core.
Alas! There isn’t any vore.