Elvis, was barely cold in his grave
when in '77 you began your grand tour
of the Sun's great gaseous giants.
Cruising gracefully on the Solar wind you swept past
jovial Jupiter; watched by his roving, red eye of a storm,
your sensors collecting and sending data
all the way back to your Earth bound creators,
as you surfed the sling-shot to majestic Saturn;
the bringer of old age, and his glittering rings of gold.
But you, old for your kind, were not yet satisfied.
Power still in your atomic batteries you sailed on
340 million miles a year until you had
pierced the balloon of the Heliosphere;
the mother sun's womb, and her sphere
of influence was behind you forever.
And in this cold, dark space between the stars,
you, and your golden record of humanity,
became, at last, our interstellar emissary
About the author
Kevin N Jelf is a 51 year old graphic artist who has lived and worked all his life in Birmingham. For Kevin, writing poetry is something of a compulsion. His subject matter ranges from the personal to the topical. He has previously been published in The Cannon's Mouth Quarterly, Here Comes Everyone and The Angry Manifesto. His work has also been seen on The Open Mouse, The Recusant and Poetry 24. His other passions in life are photography and music.