Journey to the Pole

A traveller of great renown
A theorist of repute
Planned a novel exploration
By a most unusual 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 in through a hole
Through which he planned to descend
At the apex of the pole

A galleon he chartered
With provisions for the trip
And one hundred men of stout resolve
To navigate the ship
Sponsors queued and so a crew
More funds than were required
And all agreed he was indeed
The man they most admired

And so at last a 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 traveller passed
A solitary soul
And found a rusty anchor chain
Frozen at the pole