Schrodinger's Cat

Well, let me start
In jest, this part,
On a cheery sort of note.
This, some may find,
If they be kind,
A lovely anecdote.

A box I take,
Of steely make,
With sides and bottom flat.
Inside I place,
A tiny trace
Of poison and my cat.

And then I did
Put on the lid.
Thus sealing it alright.
So now it stays,
For nights and days,
Concealed from human sight.

This, Mr. E.,
Highlights to me
A likely paradox.
For none can tell
It's ill or well,
Unless we break the box.

But if we take,
For theory's sake,
A simpler course instead.
Let's say, “The cat, ”
As plain as that,
“Is living and is dead!”

O mon ami,
Said Mr. E.,
What an elegant thought!
Of course I see
The fallacy
To light that you have brought.

Alas, my wife,
Who is pro-life,
Has wished your cat, “All well.”
Yet, wonders she,
If dead it be,
Where it went to? Heav'n o' hell?

Sugarcandy Mountain

O good old beasts of England!
I, Moses, bring to thee
A word from the Master,
Divine prophecy.

Across the English channel,
Beyond the misty shroud,
Is Sugarcandy mountain
Atop the highest cloud.

Where clover grows aplenty,
And the grass is always green.
On Sugarcandy mountain
There's sugar umpteen.

On Sugarcandy mountain,
It's Sunday all week long.
“To Sugarcandy mountain!”
Come join me in the song.

One seldom trusted Moses
His friends were but a few.
Yet Sugarcandy mountain,
Did seem to be so true.

All day they went about it
Dancing arm-in-arm.
“To Sugarcandy mountain,
O beasts of Manor farm!”

“To Sugarcandy mountain,
Each one of us shall go.
To Sugarcandy mountain.
Aho! Aho! Aho!”