Questions

In response to the latest Lancashire Dead Good Poets' theme, I came up with the following.

Questions

Questions are what makes us “us”;
A search for things to know,
Embodying our train of thought,
Somewhere for us to go.
Just think where we would be today
Had scientists not cared
To question this and question that;
How would we all have fared?

So many questions helped them solve
With Kepler, how the planets move,
With Darwin, theories would evolve,
With Euclid, so much maths to prove;
With Pasteur’s questions about germs,
With Robert Hooke and stretching springs,
With Mendel and inheritance,
With other folk and other things.

Could Newton formulate his laws?
And what of Stephen Hawking?
And Einstein and his theories,
Of them we won’t be talking.
We wouldn’t know Schrodinger’s cat
The telescope of Hubble;
It wouldn’t enter Sigmund’s mind,
All queries – too much trouble.

There was a guy, discovered Pi
(And not the ones Greggs bake),
Invented a hydraulic screw,
And so much more he’d make.
But if he had not thought to ask,
This Archimedes, ancient Greek, a-
-bout the water in his bath,
Then who would yell “Eureka”?

If Galileo had not asked
How pendulums swing constantly,
How could Freddie match the names
Bohemian and Rhapsody.

Without the questions from these chaps
(To them we must provide our thanks),
Though Heisenberg may not be sure,
We’d still be thick as two short Plancks.