Among the sons of Molluscus
Were twisted ones, most glorious:
The sons of Gastropus,
Renowned and prosperous.
Gastropus twisted each
Son beyond our reach
Of understanding strange:
Their anus he'd arrange
Next to their heads so near
That all could see quite clear
This anatomical design
So twisted yet so fine.
And so by this great art
Each son could wholly part
From danger's threatening call
By pulling in completely all
Within their shell so tight
Protected day and night
From any enemy
Who'd harm their family.
The sons of Gastropus
Outnumbered, glorious,
All other classes made.
In history's parade
Only the Insects great
Would ever duplicate
Their numbers through the years
Despite all joys and fears.
The Priests of Gastropus
Wear robes so glorious
Of Tyrian purple bright
To show their royal sight.
The regal mucus shows
How majesty still grows
From Gastropus' great kingdom
Through all its wisdom.
In year of eight thousand
Four hundred thirty, band
Of Phoenicians came
To conquer and to claim
The great Gastropod Empire
And set their hearts on fire
For the sacred priestly dye
Beneath the purple sky.
From them it came at last
To Romans of the past,
And to this very day
When purple comes our way
We think of Majesty
And royal sovereignty
That flows from Gastropus
So rich and glorious.
Just as his majesty
Was purple, heavenly,
His faith was colored blue
Forever pure and true.
In time of Moses great
Prince Hexaplex' fate
Would bless him with the gift
Of tassels that would lift
The spirits of the true
Devotees in blue
Who wear the tassels still
According to God's will.
Many who follow
Moses' path so hollow
Not in emptiness
But filled with faith's caress
Wear tassels blue with faith
That never comes to scathe
But strengthens every day
Those who walk this way.
Limpus was firstborn son
Of Gastropus when begun
His line. His sons became
The Limpets of great fame.
His daughters, fair and bright,
Were Limpettes in God's sight,
Each playing their own part
With faithful, loyal heart.
The Limpets are the keepers
Of tradition, not sleepers
But watchmen through the night
Who guard what is right.
Limpus said to all
His children, great and small,
Ten thousands in their number
Who never would slumber:
"Everyone who hears
These words through all the years
Of mine, and does them true,
I'll liken him to you
Who builds his house on rock
Like shepherd with his flock.
The rain may come down hard,
But he will not be scarred.
The floods may come to beat,
The winds may bring defeat
To others, but his house
Will stand through every rouse
Of storm, for it was founded
On rock that has been grounded
In truth that will not move
Through all that I approve.
But everyone who hears
These words through all his years
And does them not, I say,
Will be like one who'd lay
His foundation on sand
Built by his own hand.
The rain will come down hard,
And he'll be deeply scarred.
The floods will come to beat,
The winds will bring defeat,
And beat upon his house
Until it can't arouse
Itself from its collapse—
Great will be its lapse
Into destruction's pit
Where nothing more will fit."
The Limpets build their homes
On rocks where ocean roams,
Not sand that shifts about
With every storm's great shout.
As waves bellow and beat
Against them, in the heat
Of battle with the sea,
The Limpets firmly be
Standing their ground so true
Like soldiers tried and true
Who never leave their post
Though tempest be their host.
When Limpets move, they go
Always, as we know,
Home to their rocky place
Where they found their space.
As their father before
Did from shore to shore,
The Limpets merge their shell
To rock, and there they dwell
Growing intricate fits
To their foundation's bits,
Each shell shaped perfectly
To match rock's geometry.
And so we sing the hymn
Of Limpus when grows dim
Our hope and we feel lost,
That we might count the cost
And always return home
No matter where we roam
Throughout this world so wide
With Limpus as our guide.
"My hope is built on naught
But what Limpus has brought:
His blood and righteousness
That brings us faithfulness.
I dare not trust the frame
However sweet its name,
But wholly trust in his—
In Limpus' name is bliss.
Limpus the solid Rock
I stand like shepherd's flock;
All other ground's just sand
That sinks beneath my hand.
All other ground's just sand
That will not help me stand."
Snellon, youngest son
Of Gastropus, begun
Not tradition's way
But innovation's day.
He stood for something new,
For progress through and through.
Snellon bore two sons:
Vetigas when begun
The day, and Escargon
Whose work would carry on
The family's great name
Through innovation's flame.
Vetigas bore two more:
Trochus to explore
And Avalon so strong
Who lived his whole life long.
Trochus became the sire
Of snails whose desire
Is cleaning far and wide:
Turban snails with pride
And Trochus snails as well,
Dutiful, they tell
Us how to clean with care
Aquaria everywhere
And ecosystems too
With work they love to do.
They polish and they scrub
Like members of a club
Devoted to the art
Of playing cleaning's part
In nature's great design
Where all things work so fine.
Avalon became
Ancestor of fame
Of Abalones great
Who never hesitate
To show their hardy ways.
Through all their living days
With pores within their shell
For breathing, they dwell
Rough on the outside
But beauty can't hide
Within their inner space
Where colors interlace
In patterns beautiful
Beyond what's dutiful—
Art that takes the breath
Away from life and death.
Escargon coiled his shell
More than words can tell
And bore two sons whose coils
Surpassed all earthly toils
In their complexity:
Neritus, you see,
And Conchus, strong and true,
Each with work to do.
Neritus became
Ancestor of fame
Of snails with lids so tight
That close from any sight
When hiding from their foes.
Impenetrable, close
Their shells when danger's near—
No enemy they fear.
Conchus bore two sons:
Marius when begun
The day, who ruled the sea,
And Heterobran, free
To fly through ocean skies
With wonder in his eyes
And grace in every move
As he would always prove.
Marius of the Sea
Became ancestry
Of many little snails
Whose beauty never fails
Across the seas so wide:
Periwinkles with pride,
And Cowries beautiful,
And Wentletraps so full
Of spiral elegance,
Moon Snails in their dance,
And Murexes so bright,
Cone Snails in their might,
And Turrids spiral-wise
Beneath the ocean skies,
Each playing their own part
In evolution's art.
The surfing snails move fast
At breakneck speed, at last
Across the shores they ride
With ocean as their guide.
Here is the story told
Of daughters brave and bold:
Olivella and her sister
Agaronia, who'd never missed her
Chance to surf the waves
Like ocean's bravest slaves
To speed and to the thrill
Of riding ocean's will.
Daughters of Olivius
The surfer, glorious
In his art upon
The waves from dusk to dawn.
The Cone Snails are named
Deceptively, acclaimed
For beauty, but they're really
Assassins who kill freely
With poison strong beyond
All that we're fond
Of thinking possible—
Nothing's defensible
Against their deadly art.
They live set apart
Between life and death's door
Like guardians of lore
Otherworldly, bright
With beauty that's sight
To see, but death to touch
For those who dare too much.
Cowries are devotees
Of goddess Cuprias,
And by her blessing great
They did create
The first money ever made
From shells in ocean's trade.
Their shells became the way
To buy and sell each day.
In China's ancient script
Their shells are never skipped—
The character for money
Shows their legacy
Immortalized in stone
By those who've always known
Their value through the years
Despite all joys and fears.
The Murexes were known
As hedgehog snails full-grown
With beautiful bright hues
And colors we might use
To dye our clothes so fine
In patterns that would shine
With rainbow's every shade
That nature ever made.
The great Conches so fair
Were beautiful beyond compare,
Adorable and sweet
With melodies complete
That echoed through the sea
In perfect harmony
When they would blow their horn
From evening until morn.
Heterobran of skies
Was swimmer with bright eyes
Par excellence in art
Of swimming's every part.
Heterobran begat
Two children: first he gat
Nudos, strong and free,
And Aeros of the sea.
Nudos shed his shell
And untwisted as well
Himself from gastropod
Design, and so he trod
A different path than most.
He became the host
Of nudibranches bright:
Colorful sea-sprite
Slugs with poison strong
Enough to sing death's song
To Leviathan great—
Such is their potent fate.
Aeros swam so free
In waters of the sea
Without a care or worry
Never in a hurry
But taking his sweet time
To perfect every rhyme
Of motion through the waves
In ocean's liquid caves.
Aeros bore in time
A son and daughter fine:
Pulmon, strong and great,
And Angelica's fate
Was to become the mother
Of sea butterflies, and other
Beautiful swimming forms
Through calm and raging storms
Whose ethereal existence
Eludes at every distance
Most who try to see
Their liquid poetry.
Like butterflies of air
But swimming everywhere
Through ocean's liquid space
With otherworldly grace.
But Pulmon the great
Had a different fate.
Revered ancestor he
Did what none could see
Was possible before
From mountain peak to shore:
He inhaled breath of air
And made his body's lair
A lung where he could store
The breath forevermore
That let him survive
The tide pools, stay alive
When water went away
Throughout the changing day
Like none of his kin
Had ever done therein.
From Gastropus' twist
That none could have missed
To Pulmon's breathing art
That gave him a new start
In evolution's race
Where each must find their place,
The gastropods have shown
How far they've grown
From simple, twisted start
To mastery of art
Both in the sea so deep
And tide pools where they keep
Their vigil night and day
In their devoted way
To life in all its forms
Through calm and raging storms.
In every spiral shell
That stories always tell
Of beauty and of function
Working in conjunction,
Remember how they came
To earn their lasting fame:
Through innovation's art
And tradition's heart
Both working side by side
With ocean as their guide
To fill each living niche
With forms beyond our reach
Of understanding full
But beautiful
To see in all their glory
Throughout life's endless story.
From Limpets holding fast
To rocks that ever last
To sea slugs poison-bright
Swimming day and night,
From money-making shells
To assassins who dwells
Between the life and death
With poison in their breath,
The gastropods show how
Diversity can bow
To no single way
But flourishes each day
In myriad different forms
Through calm and raging storms
That test what each can do
To make their dreams come true.
Innovation and tradition
Working in submission
To life's eternal call
That beckons one and all
To find their perfect place
In evolution's race
Where beauty and function
Meet in perfect junction.