I trained on a line to Newton’s area the volume was horrific
Hyperbolic wails from impaled rails, but the carriage, it was terrific
The fields around there, are gridded squares, on gently rolling land
Rippling greens, spiked by genes, advanced to lance my hands
I grabbed an apple and a leaf, from beneath, his still-living famous tree
Back home I plant, a seed that can’t, but add to its legacy
“Let’s send a seed and leaf from this tree to space, so the crew can love
These natural shapes and colours, from their white air-locked cell above”
“Cute, but please mute, cash has to flow, but thank you for the chat!
“Tellin’ you, there’s no revenue, so what’s the point in that?”
Just a thought, that wasn’t bought, but still a novel idea, I bid
Newton never made it to space, but he’d love it, if his tree’s cells did