If oceans were puddles and puddles were men

We’d live to be twenty, but wish to be ten.

Our questions would end before they began

Like ships to a shore that hadn’t left land.

Splendid sun cannot well show

Before the moon is down

If son is born before dad’s voice 

Then mothers have no sound.

Silly mind, you use yourself

To nudge a slumb’ring snail

It’s wrapped itself a riddle

Your ship has long set sail.

What’s to stop a probing mind?

Curses of poor breeding?

If you can’t stand for truth and facts,

You’ll fall for anything.