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Fair rings of Saturn, solid to the eyes, To the spectroscope the truth displayed: Not disks but dusts and particles of size Encircling on gravity's parade. Amorphous carbon laces water ice, Which split by UV yields an atmosphere Whose O2, H2, OH must suffice, Though no ring-dweller breath does draw out here. And whence these rings? The nebular remains Of Saturn's start to banded order fit? Perhaps a moon caught too far from its chains Then torn by tidal force or smashed to bits? O rings whose beauty spreads delight on Earth, When will we grasp the secrets of your birth? |
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Language Liberalism Freethought Birds Verbing Weirds Language only if you're expecting it to work in a simple way. This is a special case of the more general truth that Language Weirds. Only when a republic's life is in danger should a man uphold his government when it is in the wrong. There is no other time. The church says Earth is flat; but I have seen its shadow on the moon, and I have more confidence in a shadow than the church. If we can't find Heaven, there are always bluejays.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Saturnian Sonnet
My reward for donating to Janet's Donor's Choice challenge was a poem and artwork by the sprogs on a theme of my choice. Well, as you all know, I'm a huge Cassini fangirl, so the choice was easy: Saturn. And here it is: an illustrated Saturnian Sonnet by Dr Free-ride and the Sprogs:
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