(Xenolith: a rock fragment foreign to
the rock in which it is embedded.)
I
The Xenolith is not a myth,
Though sceptics would deny it.
He’s largely made of ancient stone
Resulting from his diet.
A million million years ago
He landed on this planet,
And found himself embedded in
A massive block of granite.
He lived a sedentary life,
Imprisoned in the rocks.
He didn’t mind, although he wished
That he could change his socks.
II
But hunger and thirst overcame him;
He started to nibble the strata.
The granite − delicious, and highly nutritious -
Was merely a succulent starter.
Then layers of limestone and sandstone;
He cheerfully munched in the gloom.
Millennia passed till the day came, at last,
That he’d eaten a sizeable room.
In order to travel more freely,
He chewed out a series of tunnels
Both airy and bright, for he captured the light
Through an intricate system of funnels.
He invited his friends to a party,
Though reaching his place would take ages:
To get to his home, they must crunch through the tome
Of geology’s petrified pages.
At last, all the guests were assembled;
The cavern was full chock-a-block;
The dance-floor was cramped as they stomped and they stamped
To ‘The Old Carboniferous Rock’.