by Robert Black
Once upon a time in a discontinued discotheque far, far away
A small grey moth flutters across the vastness of the empty space
Towards a glitter-ball, where briefly it rests, until disturbed
By the dreaded D’Art Raider spider!
So the moth took off at the speed of moonlight
To the centre of the hall, just in time to save a speck of dust
Falling from the surface of the ceiling above.
“Can you hear me Speck!”
Cried the overacting captain of the flickering moth,
“Hold on! We wont be long!”
“Illogical, Captain Irk,” came the reply from Speck,
“If I could hold on I would not be falling.”