Dig we did
Like the intrepid Tardigrade,
An armor-clad miniature warrior:
Dig till we dug the gold!
Or George Shaw’s discovery—
The “stitched” platypus of 1799
“Who fixed those spurs, claws, and duckbill?
Well, God sayst, I will!”
We watered the petit trianon
Of JH’s evergreen terraces;
“Why, any bloke who’d scoff at such,
Could only b’classed a Pharisee!”
He strode with folded arms,
In canary-yellow cashmere
Sweater and shorts—
Never the quitter, moving twixt
Surveyor, Juanty’general-of-the-works,
Then down into the trench with his
Intrepid adjutant — Moi!
J’s greatest riches / were not the temporal
Holdings, nay—
Instead, we mark his wisdom, vastly
Enfolding,
All of us: Family, friends, clients, and staff—
From Cuzco to Pluto. Ever gems, never chaff!
(Gone to thy great reward, yet alive in our mem’ry. Rest in peace.)
