I ask my self,
Do ships sail north, or round,
I ask myself,
Do the birds fly south.
I ask my self,
Do the seasons change,
I ask my self,
Does the sun set, ever.
I ask myself,
Does the moon know the path,
I ask myself,
Does the wind just randomly blow.
I ask myself,
Do the tides raise, or just die down,
I ask myself,
Does the spring last forever.
I ask a lot,
I ask a bit less,
But I do ask for sure,
Is the world really round?.
Do ships sail north, or round,
I ask myself,
Do the birds fly south.
I ask my self,
Do the seasons change,
I ask my self,
Does the sun set, ever.
I ask myself,
Does the moon know the path,
I ask myself,
Does the wind just randomly blow.
I ask myself,
Do the tides raise, or just die down,
I ask myself,
Does the spring last forever.
I ask a lot,
I ask a bit less,
But I do ask for sure,
Is the world really round?.
3 comments:
It sadly is round my dear, though I know you would love to just push me off the edge! The musing tone is captured well but somehow the questions raised don't do justice to the tone of the verse. They fall rather flat. The questions are not novel or thought provoking except the one about the sun. Rest all would have sounded profound but a century or two back.
Well they are profound even today :P :P :P
The flat earth Society
:D :D I hope you haven't spent your hard earned money in becoming an official member (with a certificate and medallion) of the Society!
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