“Tortoises and toads build a spaceship to the stars”

In the heart of a mossy old garden,  
Where the moon casts its lace through the trees,  
A gathering brews by the pond’s silver sheen—  
Tortoises plotting with toads, if you please.

Sir Timothy Tortoise, shell broad and wise,  
Aspires to voyage far out into space;  
His partner, Dame Toadlet, all twinkle and speck,  
Taps her webbed toes at a brisk, cheerful pace.

With cabbage-leaf blueprints and cattail for pens,  
They dreamed up a spaceship as bright as a wish,  
Nasturtium petals for solar array,  
And carrot-stick thrusters that swish when they swish.

In moonbeam-lit evenings, the critters would toil,  
Moss woven with twine, gears of acorn and pine;  
A cockpit of nutshell, a lettuce-leaf flag,  
Fine toadstools for seats where the dreamers recline.

The garden folk twittered and chirruped in awe  
As the launch day arrived in a shimmer of dew.  
With a whirr and a pop, and a chorus of “Ribbit!”,  
The stars seemed to tremble as closer they drew.

Through craters of cheese (cloud-shaped and mild-mannered),  
Past the golden-ringed planets of yonder above,  
The tortoises, toads, and a handful of beetles  
All waved to Earth’s garden with laughter and love.

Among the far constellations, they float ever on  
In a vegetable vessel, so foolish, so grand—  
For the heart that is daring, and two steady friends,  
Can reach to the stars from a patch of green land.

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