I know you recall there was once this one ant
Who decided to move an old rubber tree plant,
If all he had was hope, (that’s what we’re told),
That had to be some hope, in accents bold.
But what that hope was made of, not a clue;
A fork-lift, or a hoist—each one would do.
But if—and I mean if—he did it on his own,
Which also means he did it all alone,
He had to have more help than merely hope;
The fact was—size alone, a monumental scope.
Besides, what did he get for doing this?
If I would move a tower, fame couldn’t miss.
Oh, well, I guess we’ll never know. We’re conned!
If you ask me, I think he had a magic wand!
© Richard Williams