The essence of the story was that Wallace wanted to acquire cheese for his crackers and as everyone knows that the moon is made of cheese, he decided that a trip to the moon was in order. He proceeded to make a rocket in his shed and off he and Gromit went to discover the moon.
This led to the inevitable question; ‘Daddy, can we make a rocket and go to the moon?’
Explanations of reality always disappoint the fantasy and the dream. However, so as not to be completely mean spirited, I said we could walk up the mountain opposite our house on a clearnight in June and watch the moon. This we did and as we were watching the lovely round moon, I said that if they liked, I would buy them a piece of the moon as a keepsake; (there is an online company that ‘sells’ pieces of land from the moon).
This idea went down very well, and so for Christmas that year, there were both presented with a certificate and a map, showing which piece of the moon was ‘theirs’. For a while they almost believed they each owned a piece of the moon, until age and reality spoilt the dream. However, that didn’t stop me writing a poem about it as follows:
Selling The Moon
They are selling the moon and I wonder how,
by the acre, the lava, piece of rock or cheese?
Gift wrapped in cellophane (if you can’t see it, look again).
They are selling the Harvest Moon that shines
into my moments of deep introspection.
But what could be greater than having your own crater?
They are selling the Crescent Moon that broke
onto the water and holds in my secrets.
Though if they’re unfurled, it’s out of this world.
They are selling the Full Moon and draining
the life blood which flows from its cheeks.
Now I feel pain; will it ever grow full again?
Thanks for reading,
David Wilkinson
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