If I were a bumblebee,
Would I be a humblebee?
A grumpy, grouchy grumblebee?
A clumsy, bumble-stumblebee?
A muttering, murmuring mumblebee?
A tough and rough-and-tumblebee?
Or a paunchy, portly, chuckly, chortly, full of apple crumblebee?
You wanna be a scientist?
Just pick yourself an ‘ology.
It doesn’t matter what it means,
You’ll learn the terminology.
Psych-, myc-,
Physi-, soci-,
Dermat-, haemat-,
Primat-, climat-,
Wanna be a scientist?
Just pick yourself an ‘ology.
The list is never ending,
It could fill a fat anthology.
O-, zo-,
The-, ge-,
Lith-, myth-,
Hom-, pom-,
Crimin-, termin-,
Volcan-, campan-,
Demon-, phon-,
And dendochron-.
You wanna be a scientist?
Just pick yourself an ‘ology.
And those I’ve missed out of the list,
Have my profound apology.
Mr Babbage
Designed a computer,
Like lots of people do.
But Mr Babbage
Finished his
In 1822.
No keyboard
And no CD-ROM,
Machined from solid steel,
With rods and gears
And levers
And a great big driving wheel.
Mr Babbage
Planned some more,
Yet didn’t live to see ‘em.
But you can find one
Working,
In the London Science Museum.
Hello?
Anyone there?
The first call to be made
On the very first telephone.
Hello?
Hello?
There’s no reply.
Would, perhaps, a second
Telephone be useful?
Hello?
Hello?
A phone for me,
And one for you as well.
That’s better. Try again. Bother! It’s
Engaged.
You can staple it or screw it,
You can paste or pin or glue it,
You can stitch it, you can sew it,
Ask your teacher and she’ll show it.
You can plait it, you can tie it,
It’s not difficult, just try it,
You can weld or you can solder
(With the help of someone older).
But if all of those should fail,
Use a great big nail!
I made a hammer
Out of glass.
Did it matter?
Did it shatter?
I made a window pane
From wood.
Why did I do it?
I can’t see through it!
I made a football
Out of steel.
Tried to belt it.
Ow! I felt it!
I made an anchor
Out of plastic.
Did it sink?
What do you think?
I made mistakes,
That, there’s no doubt of.
So, what would you
Have made them out of?
Cornelius loved Chemistry,
It had a strange attraction.
The final words he spoke were: ‘Sir?
Is this a chain reaction?’
First published in ‘Shorts’, edited by Paul Cookson, Macmillan Children’s Books, 2000.
I’m Gravity. Just call me ‘G’,
And there’s no getting away from me.
I’m the biggest force in every town
Whatever goes up, I pull it right back down.
Though you can’t see me, I’ve got hold of you
And I’m part of everything you do.
I keep you on the ground, every place you go,
I make raindrops fall, I make rivers flow,
I make climbing hard, I make sledging fun,
I make shopping heavy for everyone.
I keep the moon up there in its proper place,
I make shooting stars fall out of space,
I keep the food on your plate, the drink in your cup,
If it wasn’t for me, everything would fall UP!
I’m Gravity. I’m big, big ‘G’,
And you’ll never, never, ever get away from me.
Ooh, it’s hot!
Phew, it’s hot!
Boy, I’m telling you it’s hot!
Scorching sand beneath your feet,
Ice creams dripping with the heat.
Hot enough for frying eggs.
Burning arms and burning legs,
Squirt the sunscreen with a ‘Splat!’
Hang on! Don’t forget your hat!
Pumping up the paddling pool,
Garden hose to keep you cool.
Ooh, it’s hot!
Phew, it’s hot!
More than Timbuktu it’s hot.
Suddenly we’re all complaining,
… Cheer up – it’ll soon be raining!
I see them all stare in the dolls’ house,
And marvel with eyes open wide.
Isn’t it clever? Oh, isn’t it cute?
Look at the man in his shiny black suit.
There’s tea on the table, with cups and a cake,
What a wonder, the miniature things they can make!
Now, move along children. We really can’t stop.
We’ve visitors coming and I need to shop.
There’s so much to do, and it’s looking like rain,
On Friday the traffic can be such a pain.
Yes, I see them all stare in the dolls’ house,
And imagine the world that’s outside.
Now me, I live here in the dolls’ house.
I stand with a cloth and a tray.
And if you should ask me, I’d tell you it true,
I’d rather be here than stuck outside like you.
Nobody hurries, or looks at the clock,
Nobody’s ruled by the tick and the tock.
No tailback of traffic, no crowds and no crush.
There’s nothing to do and there’s no need to rush.
There’s nobody living, but nobody dies.
Nobody’s laughing, but nobody cries,
Nobody visits, but nobody leaves,
Nobody loves, but nobody grieves.
I just wait to serve tea in the dolls’ house,
For it’s tea time all night and all day.
I see them all stare in the dolls house,
And I wonder who’s fixed and who’s free.
They stand and they stare in the doll’s house,
And maybe they wish they were me.
