Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: SKELETON IN THE CLOSET (11/30/17)
TITLE: If Bones could Speak..
By David Butler
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This proud and stately edifice.
For educating all is this:
A Nat’ral Science museum.
As Sanitation Engineer,
I am employed the dust to clear
From floors and all these fossils here,
So folks can clearly see ‘em.
At ancient beasts they come to gawk
Or listen to a scientist’s talk.
Then well-informed, away they walk,
And leave a mess for me.
At closing time, with mop and pail
I patiently their grot assail.
Yet, terrified, their hearts would quail
If they saw what I see!
The curator, he went to bed.
Night watchmen? They all screamed and fled!
But cleaners bold, they do not dread
A friendly talking dino.
Intimidating though in size
These bony creatures don’t despise
A man who looks them in the eyes
While cleaning up the lino.
Discussed they all the day’s events,
A Hadrosaur, he loud laments:
‘Those stupid humans don’t make sense!
They haven’t got a clue!’
A theropod who stood nearby
Concurred: ‘It makes me want to cry
So many still believe that lie.
It really makes me blue.’
So then said I, in dulcet tones
‘Magnificent and noble bones,
Wherefore such sighs, such mournful groans?
In sorrow you are sinking.’
The deep voice of the Brontosaur
(Who covered an entire floor)
Said ‘Every day we listen for
In vain, some critical thinking.
‘I wish that we poor dinosaurs
Were giv’n a chance to speak our cause.
But modern “science” our voice ignores
On disagreement tramples.
Now Mr Darwin said they’d find
Transitional forms between each kind.
The fossil record leaves behind
No clear and sound examples!’
As I applied my brooms and mops,
I chanced by ol’ Triceratops
Who opened up his bony chops.
His speech I found surprising:
‘My place is found upon the lists
Of learnèd palaeontologists
But data oft is lost in mists
Of theory and surmising.
‘In living days I daily met
Many a duck and avocet
And modern birds one can’t forget,
Yet these museums did.
For laid together we were found
In common layers in the ground.
My feathered friends are not around,
From public view they’re hid!’
I dusted off the great T. rex
Who philosophic’ly reflects
On all a Darwinist rejects.
His bones they scrutinized.
‘They found soft tissue, DNA
Blood cells (!) they can’t explain away!
Though many million years, they say,
That I’ve been fossilised.’
Then spake the Pterodactyl high
suspended from his concrete sky:
‘Please logic’ly now tell me why
That dating method’s used?
Labs differ in their “Million years”!
The fossil-finder weeps great tears
Until “the fitting date” he hears!
I can’t say I’m amused!’
To dump such ancient ages on
A self-respecting skeleton
It is a strange phenomenon!
The evidence won’t fit!
To think a sapient scientist
The rules of science he somehow missed
But rather on blind faith insist,
Yet this he won’t admit.’
Disturbed, I packed and took my gear
To clean the office at the rear.
Imagine if the boss could hear
What in-mates had to say!
Now in the cupboard there was hid
The boss’s fav’rite Hominid
Respectfully, I tipped my lid
Before I worked away.
“Ol’ Skelly” was a long-time friend
At times a bony hand he’d lend
And to his discourse I attend –
His skull is screwed on well!
‘Neanderthal I’m called,’ said he
‘Sub-species of humanity!
Yet evidence, where they found me,
A diff’rent tale would tell.
Some artefacts reveal much skill.
Cosmetics my wife used at will.
We cared for frail folk, old or ill
Far more than one supposes.
An Archaeologist now finds
That ancients had astounding minds
But modern prejudice still blinds
They can’t see past their noses!
For scientists are human too.
At times they act like we all do --
Build house of cards with faulty glue
That falls beneath them later.
Yet many humble PHDs
Reject such faulty thee-or-ees,
Then find the Truth upon their knees,
Acknowledge their Creator.’
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