MY POEM SENT TO RICHARD DAWKINS Twas a dark night in the Horologists shop The old mans eyes had faded dim The fragmented timepiece with its integral parts Lay in a cup in front of him. The man had collected the mechanical parts in the measure he knew to be true But with the fog of his eyes and the shake of his hands Then there was nothing more he could do. With a noise and a flash and down from the sash a tiny man did climb and in his right hand held a magic wand which did peculiar things to time. My name is Dawkin Dick and I have my magic stick said the tiny man with glee. With no wish to be quick youll see it tick, een though its in bits. Youll see! Twas fortune right for the watchmakers sight For Dick was no sight for his eye. For some Selfish Gene had made some contrived scene and merely blind faith was the lie. Put the watch in a bag said Dawkin Dick. and time, with this wand, I will steal. And the movements jewelled ring and the timing spring will join with the balance wheel. And what is your pay said the watchmaker bold for this magic which you here do sell? Why a place in history, and for this mystery a mention in the Times as well. So the Watchmaker watched and Dick waved his stick and the parts came together as one. Thats all that I do and without further ado Dawkin Dick and his stick were gone. The man took up his watch but saw there a catch as he placed it back into the cup and immediately started to ponder and wonder Who now will be winding it up. For the measure of time is all very fine And thank time for times measure in flow But there is no good to be stuck with a dud when you need someone to get it to go. He thought How is the watch to go round and round In this banquet of time with its seasoning. Why cannot my watch be turning the circle Just like our Richards reasoning. ROSCOE (Me)
Posted on: Mon, 18 Nov 2013 07:26:49 +0000
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