Expedition to Mars by Ian Thomson

One bright afternoon, in the middle of June,
We set off to reach the Red Planet.
There was Gobby and Cleg (and his dog with three legs)
Wee Spider and me - I'm called "Carrots".

Our ship we named "Horse", though it wasn't, of course,
It was just an old washing machine
That some idiot dumped, underneath a tree stump,
It took ages to get it all cleaned.

Then we tied it up tight, to a brown paper kite,
That would serve as our main booster rocket.
Things were moving on well, as, apart from the smell,
The dumped stuff had saved us a packet.

It was Spider and Gobby (model planes were their hobby)
Calculated the launching position
But Cleg had to stay around South Alloway
And pretend to his mum he'd gone fishing.

For the parents we had didn't think we were bad,
But they liked to keep tabs on us boys
If they'd ever found out what our plans were about
We'd be grounded; no TV, no toys.

We were ready to launch! with the dog on its haunch
Inside the drum washer he sat.
We gave him a bone - now don't try this at home!
The wind caught the kite, knocked it flat.

I shouted for help, as the dog gave a yelp
So the four of us lifted the kite
Then upward it soared with the poor dog aboard
Having given wee Spider a bite .

Did the dog get to Mars? No. it landed on cars
In the pub car park, then hopped off home.
As the pub crowd ran out, we ran off to their shouts
Of "We'll get you! we know where you're going!"

Sprinting through the town woods, laughing loud, feeling good,
Next time Jupiter! we knew the way.
Later on, telling lies, to our parents who sighed,
While the Copper took notes - what a day!

Maybe some place in Time, in those great halls I'll find
A wild foursome with three-legged dog.
They won't recognise this old man, I'll surprise them
Producing, from pocket, a frog.