There she stood in a room full of junk, though a few good things could be seen there.
Some things were things men hated, others degraded from constant use without the use of constant care
There they sent her to build an engine to carry her into the heavens, a world of dreams grander than there wildest expectations
Yet honestly it was hard to imagine how a decent rocket could come from there.
There she stood, brown skinned, fair, golden haired and slender framed
In a work mans garb, and flight goggles over eyes that burned like sunset flames
You know, Lord, who she is, she's all who have been sent to accomplish accomplishments
She's the one who's supposed to ...go far, well skyrocket is her name.
The day began with with her gathering things, mostly junk from the world outside
There was enough things there to build a good frame, but few if any decent things to go inside
She put more thought to it than others, even if their rockets flew hers would fly farther.
Yet the fear that when tested it would crash and burn lingered in the back of her mind.
All rockets crash but not all burn she thought, such is the fate of things like these
But why put so much effort in something that will fly once, then become a pile of debris
Does it matter which one flew the highest, if I dwarf the competition, when my Judge is a giant
As she wondered who would judge the completion a shining hand handed her a book to read.
A book of rockets and rocketeers, the works of men from ages past.
What works the Lord would except and the works of man he would not pass.
Her rocket would not break the sky, she cried in shame over the thing that was her pride
How could she hope to fly with a rocket composed of parts from one that long ago had crashed.
But then you showed her the light of hope, the only hope to pass the race.
A rocket that had topped the carts, dwarfed the stars and won first place.
That rocket had been broken, and whoever would take its tokens
And build an engine from its parts would share the prize, because it's a part of the one that won first place.
She wiped the tears from her eyes, then went and gathered all her things
Then she exchanged them for invaluable parts, freely given by the King of kings.
Then she got to work afresh, though it was hard she did her best.
She stripped her machine of outside junk and made a rocket of new things.
Her rocket didn't make as much noise as others, nor dazzle those who came to see
Some shook there heads in disappointment, we expected much of you and this is what you've grown to be
But she cared not for the approval of their eyes, they were not the judge who said she'd win the prize
Besides, it flew well, and when it fell it would regain its trail through the heavenly
No glory to the skill of thy holy rocketeer, but all praise goes to you
If it wasn't for the parts you gave, a high tech engine and navigation systems that guide it straight and true
Long ago would it have fallen, lost and forever forgotten
Keep on track, my life, my works, my soul, all that skyrocket sendeth up to you.