Jellyfish in the Great Pacific Garbage Patch

While doing research for the book I am writing about jellyfish, I learned about the great pacific garbage patch. Somehow, the idea of jellyfish floating in the continent-sized mass of plastic refuse reminded me of Lewis Carrol's wonderful poem about the Walrus and the Carpenter. It inspired the following adaptation.

The jelly floating on the sea,
Thought with all its might:
He did his very best to turn
To the left or to the right --
Around the floating garbage
In the middle of the night.

What is this stuff, he wondered,
It knows I cannot steer,
It has no business 'way out here'
In the great Pacific gyre
“Is this a garbage dump?” he asked.
The answer wasn't clear.

The sea was wet as wet could be,
But with the morning sky,
It was thick with plastic refuse
No jelly could pass by:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.

The Turtle and the albatross
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such garbage made by man:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "wouldn't it be grand?"


"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Turtle said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the albatross,
And shed a bitter tear.

"O Jellies, come and walk with us!"
The Turtle did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the plastic beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Jelly looked at him,
But ne'er a word he said:
The eldest Jelly winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning that he did not choose
To leave the garbage-bed.

But four young jellies hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.