A traveller of great renown, a theorist of repute,
Planned a novel exploration by a most inusual route,
He maintained the Earth was hollow, that his theory was quite sound
And that another world was waiting in the darkness underground.
The sun he said was filtered, light streamed through a hole,
Through which he planned to descend at the apex of the Pole,
A Galeon he'd charter with provision for the trip
And one hundred men of stout resolve to navigate the ship.
Sponsor queued and so accrued more funds than were required
And all agreed he was indeed the man they most admired
And so at last the date was set and they cast off from the quay
The Mayor wept and a brass band played "For Those In Peril On The Sea".
Well five months on and not a word was heard of ship nor men,
And all forgot or ceased to care what had become of them,
Until at last a traveler past, a solitary soul,
And found a rusty anchor chain frozen at the Pole.
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