Grand Tour


Oh, how I long, to go out there.

Out where forces are great, and air is so rare,

That you have to take it with you,

And the ancient is new, to the few.


Who have cut through Saturn's rings,

Because it was hard, and done the other things.

Rode with the Solar wind,

Past the Moon's cratered face.

To embark on the new Space Race. 


To head for Mercury, stopped dead on its axis.

And hide behind its small shadow, to escape the heat,

Of the merciless Sun, commanding its taxus,

In the order of stars, its destiny to meet.


To sail through the hot soup of Venus,

And savor the taste of its acid air,

Laying your ship to waste,

If you don't get out of there.


To land on Mars, red dust on your boots.

Tour the Great Rift and climb Olympus slopes.

Then circle Ceres and land on Vesta's virgin shoal.

And waltz with Mathilde, amid asteroids galore.


Land on Callisto's cratered ice crust,

And swim Europa's underground oceans, a must.

To Ganymede, the largest we trust,

To observe Io's eruptions thrust.


Ejecta to form mighty Jupiter's auroral display, 

As the storm called the Great Red Spot churns away.

Locked in a gravity so strong,

That its lighting bolts are a thousand miles long.


On to Titan, Triton, Titania, and beyond.

Cold ice obits like far Oberon,

To view the Sun's feeble light.

Forever trapped in icy twilight.


And bask in the glow of Uranus' blue green stare,

Neptune and beyond to little Pluto's lonely lair

Where there is no air, no heat, no light.

The Sun's just another star in the perpetual night. 


Out here, to be sane, one must take the long view.

Of stars and galaxies in motion and multiple hue,

Of colors enhancing the changes so true.

Riding with comets into the new.

Copyright 2000 © Ronald W. Hull



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