According to quaint solar lore,
Upon a sunspot crater,
A colony of immigrants lived
Near the sun’s equator.
As former Saturn citizens,
They each possessed two brains,
A fore brain and an aft brain lived
Within each skull’s domain.
Sun energy that radiated
From a solar vortex,
Made inspiration flow and fill up
Each cerebral cortex.
The colonists were writers,
Each were stylized with their form,
The synergy between their brains—
A solar-powered brainstorm.
The mentor for their writing group,
And leading citizen,
Was Stella who wrote poetry
In her solarium.
She kept a sundog for a pet.
She called him Astral-Sol,
He ate moon pies and drank sun tea.
Before each evening stroll.
Each solar day began just like
The solar day before,
And solar energy infused
The sunspot writer’s core.
Until that day! — ‘Twas overcast,
The weather turned for worst,
The sun’s corona had a
Solar flare flare up and burst.
The solar flare disturbance
To the sunspot dweller’s brains
Impeded brain synapses and
Caused solar flare brain-sprains.
And inspiration ceased to flow,
An intellectual shock,
When residents upon the sun
Can’t write, it’s called sun-block.
And so severe the malady,
They called in a physician
Who ranked it, “third-degree sun-block,
A non-lethal condition.”
The solar lore recounted
How the colony declined,
“The worst instance of sun-block
For all of Solar-kind.”
The solar flares continued,
Ergo; Stella couldn’t write—
No currency for moon-pies
For her sundog’s snack at night.
“Each fore brain and each aft brain
Fought each other,” said the lore,
“Drove sunspot crater citizens
Quite wacko with head-war.”
Then much to everyone’s relief
And answer to their prayers,
A merchant starship orbited,
He came to ply his wares.
A peddler from Andromeda,
A dealer in space junk,
Wielded a flare-extinguisher
Pulled from a cargo trunk.
So Stella and the colonists
Used local currency,
They paid the man in gamma rays,
A sun commodity.
They utilized extinguishers
To end creative drought,
Once sprayed, the solar flares smoldered
Then sputtered and went out.
Without the flares the sun-block ceased
The cloudy skies departed.
The brain synapses recommenced,
Creativeness — jump-started.
Their fore brains and their aft brains
Were kicked into high gear.
Each writer produced volumes,
Had success in their careers.
Then Astral-Sol ate moon-pies,
Strolled a street called Sunnyside,
And every solar day that dawned
Was Sunday sunspot-wide.
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