Luna Iactus

Parts 5 and 6

V.

[Chorus]

In the silence of the cosmic sea, three dauntless souls took flight,  

A trinity of Earth-born stars, their valor burning bright.  

A mission cast from realms of dream, where only thought had trod,  

To trace in lunar dust the breadth of mankind’s path unflawed.  

Bound by a president’s bold claim, whose words did heavens chart,  

John F. Kennedy’s mandate rang, a vow that from the start,  

Did challenge Earth's brave children to take their rightful place,  

And in the silvered glow of Moon, etch liberty's embrace.  

A scion of technology, their craft did cleave the night,  

A fragile human chrysalis against the void’s great might.  

Yet undeterred, our heroes soared, Apollo's favored kin,  

Their odyssey, a beacon to the will within.  

And as their vessel broke the bonds of Earth's embracing blue,  

They braved the silent tempest, an unyielding crew.  

Each trial they met with steady hands, the dangers known full well,  

The fires of reentry, the cold of space's spell.  

The orb of life grew distant, a shimmering azure tear,  

As onwards to their destiny, the astronauts did steer.  

Their vessel was a chariot upon the heavens drawn,  

Its coursers' flames a signature upon the cosmic dawn.  

Upon the Sea of Tranquility, they danced in low-gravity ballet,  

Each step a testament to will, each breath a word in play.  

And from Armstrong’s lips, a verse of hope, as light as Luna's crest,  

His "giant leap for mankind" entered history’s endless quest.  

Upon their safe return to home, a world held in suspense,  

Two in every ten souls alive observed without pretense.  

Their journey ignited dreams of stars, a canvas broad and new,  

Yet not all quests would bask beneath success's golden hue.  

As the Space Race’s fervor cooled beneath a peacetime sun,  

And the eagle's wings were clipped by the cost of what was won,  

The nation's gaze, once upward cast, to the firmament's wilds,  

Now turned to ground, to count the cost, in dollars, tears, and smiles.  

But the embers of those heady days refused to be ignored,  

In hearts and minds, a restless spark, a quest forever stored.  

For though political winds may shift, and budgets rise and fall,  

The human spirit’s boundless reach will ever heed the call.  

In stately reverence, the museum halls now stand,  

A vault of human triumph, a legacy so grand.  

The Air and Space’s corridors echo with ghostly flight,  

An homage to the brave who dared the unfathomable height.  

There rests the storied Columbia, her journey’s silent proof,  

A capsule of aspirations, of an era aloof.  

She's flanked by lunar chariots and engines of the race,  

Each artifact a chapter in the annals of our grace.  

The Hasselblad, once feared lost to the eternal night,  

Now lies amidst the treasures of our indomitable might.  

Discovered in the quiet dust of a storage room’s embrace,  

It joins the pantheon of tools that helped our race to space.  

And there the moon rocks sit, the pieces of a dream,  

Awaiting new adventurers to reignite the beam.  

To once again set forth upon that tranquil, dusty sphere,  

And in the silence of the void, to listen and to hear.  

For the saga of Apollo is humanity's undying song,  

A melody of ingenuity, where dreams and duty throng.  

A testament to what we are and what we yet may be,  

A proof of our unyielding quest, our need to roam free.  

So sing we now, of aspirations vaulting to the stars,  

Of a lineage of explorers, born of Earth and bound for Mars.  

With every trial and triumph, humanity’s tale is spun,  

Of a never-ending journey, and a race that’s never done.  

For in the cosmic tapestry, our stories will persist,  

Entwined with every planet, every nebulous mist.  

Let these sagas light the future, as they illuminate the past,  

And may our spirit’s voyage through the universe forever last.

Within the hallowed precincts where NASA’s banners fly,  

There strode two dauntless mariners of the boundless sky.  

Conrad and Bean, whose names would join the celestial hall,  

Endured a preparation vast, more rigorous than all.

Their training, vast in scope and depth, did span a thousand hours,  

For mission skills precise and sharp, honed like the ancient powers.  

In ironclad resolve encased, in steadfast will arrayed,  

These astronauts, of fame assured, their daunting path essayed.

Amid the humming simulators, a virtual cosmos spun,  

Four hundred hours devoted, until their task was done.  

Bound by invisible threads to Control's watchful eye,  

They honed their art for lunar lands, where silent craters lie.

In secrecy, to field they went, their purpose cloaked from day,  

The media’s prying lenses turned, respectfully, away.  

Their strides through Earth’s own sculpted lands—a geologist’s keen feast,  

Would mold their sight for lunar stones, for science not the least.

Commander Conrad, sage and clear, with geologists conferred,  

Their discourse shaped the lunar paths where they would later herd.  

Charting courses for moonwalks amidst silence and the stars,  

To glean the Moon’s untold secrets, to claim them then as ours.

And thus, with the Lunar Module, their steed of silvery gleam,  

With the Command Module guardian, they pursued the shared dream.  

Ignition’s fire then bore them forth, through ether’s vast expanse,  

Two voyagers in history’s writ, in cosmic dance entranced.

For Earth and all her children, they cast their fates to sky,  

Their valor as a lodestar that none could e'er deny.  

In the vacuum of space, they claimed their place with silent pride,  

The testament of humankind, with courage as their guide.

Hark now, a chronicle of valor's flight I weave,

Apollo's twelfth endeavor 'neath celestial eave,

'Twas in the age when Nixon held the nation's helm,

And Agnew, too, bore witness to this new realm.

Their odyssey commenced 'midst gales of Neptune’s breath,

Upon a Saturn's might that laughed at fear and death,

This vessel cleaved the brooding heavens with its flame,

Embarking boldly, on the morn, to lunar claim.

The sky was veiled in cloak of clouds, so thick, so vast,

Yet, undeterred, these brave souls to their fates were cast,

When lo, a tempest's bolt, with Zeus's fiery dread,

Struck thrice upon the ship, and all their power fled.

In that dire moment, when hope's glimmer seemed to wane,

Came John Aaron's voice, across the void, to live again,

“Try SCE to Aux,” he cried with steady nerve,

His words, a lifeline cast, the mission to preserve.

And thus, through tempest's rage and dire strait, they flew,

Astride their thunderous mount, to skies of black and blue,

With ingenuity, their path to Luna's sphere,

In the annals of the stars, their names we revere.

Bean, as Lunar Module Pilot, swift and sure,  

Aligned his hands, his duty to ensure,  

With practiced grace the switch was cast aside,  

And lo, the tempest's threat was thus defied.

Onward they ventured, through the starry sea,  

Their vessel steady, their hearts unbound and free,  

No further ills their chartered course impede,  

As toward the Moon's awaiting soil they speed.

Though whispers lingered that the bolts might fail,  

Their spirits undiminished, they did not quail.  

The astronauts, with focus unimpaired,  

Embraced their fate, for danger they were prepared.

Their valor blazed a trail across the night,  

As down to Oceanus they alighted, light.  

Intrepid by name and intrepid by deed,  

Upon the selenic plains they did proceed.

So was Apollo's twelfth saga wrought with might,  

Against the lightning's wrath, they claimed their right.  

A chronicle of courage, bold and stark,  

Forever etched in history's lumined mark.

Through Jove's fierce wrath, with courage undeterred,  

They trusted in each well-rehearsed word.  

With systems green and hearts that never shook,  

Towards their lunar destiny they looked.

The engines roared, the fiery tail aglow,  

Propelling them through the void's silent flow.  

With eyes on horizons far beyond our own,  

Apollo 12 chased the dream that mankind has sown.

The S-IVB, a steed of steel and flame,  

Would cast Apollo forth to lunar fame.  

For eighty fleeting minutes they’d ascend,  

Until the CSM, its journey’s bend,  

Would from the S-IVB make its parting sweep,  

A cosmic dance where stars their vigil keep.

Then Gordon, with an astronaut's deft grace,  

Did dock and draw the lunar craft from its embrace.  

A manoeuvre wrought with precision and with skill,  

Imbuing all who watched with an electric thrill.  

Thus mated, craft and module took to the celestial fray,  

As S-IVB's engines blazed them on their way.

Their path from prior moonbound kin did stray,  

No service module burn to shape their way.  

Instead, the S-IVB, in solitude resigned,  

Would leave the paired explorers' course defined.  

This variance, a signature of twelve's audacious flight,  

Against Apollo’s last, a beacon burning bright.

With memories of lightning's wrath still fresh in thought,  

They pondered if their lunar module had been caught  

In electric furies' wild, unbridled play.  

With vigilant concern, Conrad and Bean made their survey,  

Into the lander’s heart they peered with caution's eye,  

To ensure their quest would not on Luna's bosom die.

In orbit's clasp, twas free-return they claimed,

A path secure, if propulsion systems waned.

The Descent Propulsion System stood at guard,

To salvage lunar hopes if ascent were barred.

With thrusters checked, the SPS did wait,

In case of need, to seal a safer fate.

This vigil kept, should engines dare betray,

The crew's ambitious, starward-steered ballet.

Arrived in lunar grasp, Apollo's crew,

Did find themselves amidst an inky blue,

A burn of duration, five minutes in span,

Assured their place within the moon's grand plan.

That maiden orbit, rich with sights unseen,

Gave way to broadcasts, clear and most serene.

The lunar visage, 'cross the void displayed,

A sight to make the hardest heart unswayed.

As Luna's face came into view, the screen

Did glow with images of where no man had been.

The crew, their hearts with pride and wonder filled,

Their dream of moonscape touch was nearly willed.

And when the third ellipse was traced in space,

Another burn, their path did finely lace.

This burn to circle close, their aim to hone,

Into a course where lunar dust was thrown.

The Command Module parted, its journey now lone,

The Lunar Module's path by practiced hands sown.

Command Module's heart aflame with controlled might,

Two miles aloft from its lunar sister's flight.

The intrepid craft named for courage unfurled,

Beneath it, the vast lunar canvas world.

To Oceanus Procellarum, they would descend,

A sea of storms, where Earth's gaze did attentively bend.

For eleven-plus minutes, descent engines roared,

With Conrad's hands sure, their descent toward,

The lunar terrain coaxed under manual command,

Skillfully aimed to the site they had planned.

Just a breath from Surveyor, the '67 sentinel lies,

A prelude to man’s touch in the moonlit skies.

A rendezvous in the vast ocean of night,

A moment in history, silent and bright.

Informally dubbed as Pete's Parking Lot's span,

Conrad's jest - a tribute to the explorer's plan.

Nestled near Surveyor, their target was set,

In science’s name, on this wager they bet.

Gently they sculpted with thrusters’ exhale,

Stripping the moon's dust like a delicate veil.

Surveyor, once bronze, now muted by time,

Revealed in repose, a sight sublime.

And so the sons of Apollo, twelve by decree,

Set down upon the moon, humanity's emissary.

Each journey pressing further into the unknown,

Their footprints in lunar silt, the farthest from home.

Heroism's narrative continued to weave,

As homebound eyes watched and dared to believe.

In each giant leap, in each small step taken,

Lies mankind’s resolve, not easily shaken.

Upon the moon's stark and barren expanse they trod,

Conrad and Bean, with destiny at a nod.

From Intrepid's hatch, they embarked with elan,

Two voyagers daring on the soil of another clan.

In the Sea of Storms, their odyssey’s field,

They stood 'midst silence, no wind nor shield.

Conrad, of stature short, yet heart profound,

Leapt from the ladder, moonward bound.

His jest rang clear in the vacuum’s hold,

"Whoopie! A small step for me!" — spirited and bold.

In a bound of joy, a moment so keen,

He claimed his place in the moon's serene.

Bean, his comrade, with camera to wield,

Ventured to capture the vastness of this shield.

But fortune frowned, and with a turn awry,

The lens met the sun, and the feed did die.

Yet not a sigh to bemoan this fate,

Their purpose was grand, and the hour late.

The stars and stripes, in tranquility unfurled,

Planted firm in the regolith, a sight to the world.

Old Glory stood, midst foreign dust, a fervent tale,

A standard in the void, to mark this hallowed trail.

Upon the moon's bleak tranquility they placed,

The ALSEP, their scientific bastion graced.

With instruments wrought of human mind and dream,

They punctured the lunar sheath, a scholarly scheme.

Into the crust they drove their gleaming tools,

Mining for knowledge, bound by no earthly rules.

A tube of core, a vessel for time’s own tale,

Brims with secrets from the silent regolith pale.

With charted traverse, conceived in distant thought,

Conrad and Bean 'cross the barren landscape sought.

Through rilles and craters, under alien skies they delved,

Over lunar plains vast and mysteries shelved.

Guided by voices from Houston's far command,

They ventured forth, courage firm in hand.

Their odyssey stitched by strategic, earth-born guide,

They journeyed forth, with dauntless stride.

Each stone and step, a stroke of cosmic lore,

Humanity’s bold script 'cross the universe did soar.

Apollo's twelfth, those men of steeled nerve,

In the annals of space, their legacy preserve.

Across the desolate scape, where shadows play and dart,

The valiant mariners of space took up their chart.

Head crater, Bench, and Sharp, they spied with keenest eye,

By Halo's reach they sailed, beneath the blackened sky.

Their chariot, a craft of human wit and dream,

Bore them to Surveyor's edge, a silent team.

Surveyor, silent sentinel of past endeavor,

Stood as they approached, in the moon's quiet forever.

The land was firm beneath their boots, as they drew near,

A moment of human triumph, devoid of fear.

They gathered the relics of Surveyor's stay,

Fragments of human touch, from a bygone day.

The lunar soil, disturbed by their careful hand,

Yielded rocks and regolith, from this ancient land.

Each sample, a whisper from the moon’s own heart,

Chosen with care, for science's chart.

For the art of self-portraiture, they were prepared,

An automatic timer, its task declared.

Yet fate decreed it otherwise, the device unseen,

Amidst the bounty of the moonscape, stark and serene.

The precious timer was lost, a trinket unreclaimed,

But greater goals beckoned, unashamed.

To Block crater then, with Surveyor in their wake,

They staked their claim, for exploration's sake.

Their journey, marked by lunar dust and stone,

Their legacy, by courage and endeavor shown.

As they returned to their lunar ship, their chests swelled,

With the pride of a mission well held.

So did they traverse the lunar plain, with storied gait,

Apollo's sons, enacting destiny's dictate.

Their footprints etched upon the gray, forlorn dust,

Stand as testament to their triumph, in trust.

Amid the cosmic ballet, where silence reigns as lord,

Conrad and Bean stepped forth, their harmony struck a chord.

Twofold their essence, cast in lunar light so bright,

Heroes born of Earth, in the endless dance of night.

Michael Gordon, high above, in solitude did sail,

Circled the moon alone, his odyssey beyond the pale.

As the Lunar Module kissed the barren expanse below,

Gordon, ever vigilant, watched the drama unfold, slow.

Isolation was his cloak, amid the stars so stark,

His vessel, a sentinel; in the void, he made his mark.

When Intrepid’s feet had touched the moon’s dusty face,

Gordon’s voice traversed the void, a testament to grace.

"Godspeed," he hailed, his words a thread through the ether spun,

Uniting them across the dark, though he stood alone, just one.

With an eagle’s eye, he spied their lunar trail,

Surveyor and Intrepid, against the gray so pale.

Back to Earth, his findings flew, precision was his song,

A guardian of the mission, to which he did belong.

The time then came for a celestial pirouette,

A dance of fire and thrust, the CSM's path to set.

Though Conrad and Bean upon the moon did boldly stride,

Gordon, in orbit, had his own destiny to ride.

Craft to craft, the signal leaped, a gossamer thread,

Gordon’s voice, unwavering, through the vacuum led.

When their lunar labor was crowned with success,

He ignited the engines, his loneliness to redress.

While duty anchored him to his celestial round,

Gordon's heart with yearning for his brothers was bound.

In that grand odyssey, where stars and silence meld,

His was the quiet courage, too often unsung, unfelt.

Aloft in the silence where solitude weaves,

Gordon remained steadfast, performing with ease.

The Lunar Multispectral experiment in his command,

Capturing the Moon's unseen face, stark and grand.

With Hasselblads braced, each lens with a filter's embrace,

He painted the Moon in spectral grace.

Colors hidden to the roving eye,

Now in vivid detail from his orbit high.

Sites untouched by boot or tread,

Unveiled secrets in spectrums of red,

A solitary sentinel in the void so wide,

With courage as his vessel and cameras as his guide.

From mountain high to crater deep,

The colors of the Moon did softly speak.

And Gordon, alone, wove a tapestry so rare,

A mosaic of knowledge, suspended in air.

For Michael Collins, ensconced in his ship's heart,

A sentinel in the cosmos, played he his part.

With the valor of legends, his actions writ bold,

In the annals of history, his tale forever told.

Through the vast ocean of stars, his vessel did sail,

On Apollo's grand voyage, beyond the Earth's pale.

Their aim to alight upon the selenic plains,

To tread 'mongst the craters, where silence reigns.

Their charter was clear, to the Moon's expanse,

To chart its mysteries, to look and to dance.

Where once myths had mingled with the night's face,

Now human footprints, they would gently place.

From the Moon's embrace, they took leave with grace,

Yankee Clipper hailed, their celestial chase.

Intrepid's final arc, to the void dispatched,

Its seismic echo through lunar silence matched.

Orbiting astronauts, in their craft aloft,

Captured visions of valleys, craters soft.

A second shift in course, the Clipper's path refined,

Toward Earth’s blue haven, their way outlined.

The fiery breath of the service module's might,

Propelled them homeward through the cosmic night.

Adjustments minor, a precision tale,

As stars above watched their Earthward sail.

In Earth’s penumbra, a dance of light and shade,

A solar eclipse, by celestial bodies made.

Bean's eyes wide with wonder, beheld the scene,

A vision of splendor, pure and serene.

Before screens aglow, they shared their epic tale,

Questions of Earth, they answered without fail.

In tranquil anticipation of Terra's embrace,

They slumbered among stars, in heaven’s grace.

In the waning year of sixty-nine, when autumn's breath grew chill,

Three men of valor rose to heed their nation's dauntless will.

Conrad, Gordon, Bean, by stars aligned and fortune kissed,

Did cast their fates to ether’s vast, through the stratosphere’s mist.

Adorned with Navy's deep sea hues, their patch did proudly blaze,

A clipper swift, with fiery wake, set heavens' gaze ablaze.

Yankee Clipper, the vessel's name, Apollo XII in script,

A noble craft in history's loom, indelibly equipped.

November’s chill gave way to thrums of Intrepid's descent,

Upon the Moon's stark canvas, a celestial event.

They danced with gravity, plucked stones from the silent tide,

Their bounty of lunar secrets, in trustful hands did bide.

Their Earthward journey was marked by a jester's jolt so keen,

A camera sprung, a bruised brow beneath a visor's sheen.

And from the Hornet's deck, emerged the sentinel's embrace,

To quarantine, to safeguard life, they vanished without trace.

To Lunar Lab in Houston's realm, through sterile corridors,

The treasures of Apollo’s toil opened new doors.

Their vigil ended with December's tenth reverie,

Freed from confinement’s grasp, to history's annals flee.

Conrad beckoned to the stars, a call to Skylab's quest,

With Bean he soared again, while Gordon nurtured lunar zest.

Yankee Clipper now rests, its chapter etched in time,

In Virginia's shrine, a voyager sublime.

The Intrepid's echo lies on Sea of Tranquility’s plain,

Its ascent stage a silent sentinel, in lunar domain.

From orbit high, the Reconnaissance Orbiter espies,

The footprints, Surveyor, ALSEP — mankind’s enterprise.

In the annals of the cosmos, where their legends gently sleep,

A trio of Earth’s bravest, their vows with the heavens keep.

Their voyage to the Moon, in history's pages scored,

Stands testament to the human spirit, forevermore explored.

[Chorus]

Oh, listen, traveler, to the echoes of the vast,

For I shall unfold the tales of titans cast.

From Apollo's chariot to ancient stones that whisper lore,

To man's odyssey in space, and what the future has in store.

Recall Armstrong’s silent tread, beneath a foreign sky,

Where humanity's pulse did hold as he drew nigh.

Aldrin, his comrade, shared that tranquil sea,

They claimed the stars, in tranquil unity.

Then came Apollo's twelve, with valiant hearts they soared,

Upon the moon’s bleak plains, their spirits roared.

Conrad, Bean, Gordon, names cast in Navy's might,

In the hallowed hall of Luna, they etched their rite.

With lunar bounty clasped, and Surveyor's yield,

They voyaged home, through heaven’s shield.

Though Oceanus Procellarum's kiss was fierce and bold,

They rose from its waves, warriors in Navy gold.

Their standard bore the ship, through cosmic tides that part,

A clipper brave, ablaze, a canvas of high art.

Adrift 'pon seas celestial, stars and stripes unfurled,

A remembrance for Williams, of the silent world.

The saga of their journey through the vast unknown,

To Skylab's haven, where seeds of knowledge were sown.

Bean and Conrad ascended; their dreams took flight anew,

While Gordon gazed aloft, his aspirations true.

Behold the Yankee Clipper, enshrined in stately repose,

A relic of courage where Potomac flows.

Its odyssey now anchored, for posterity to see,

A testament to the brave, in the annals of the free.

Yet beyond the bounds of Earth's blue cradle lies,

The legacy of ancient wonders 'neath alien skies.

From Roman Colosseum to Grecian temple's might,

Stand as sentinels of history, against the creeping night.

Egypt’s pyramids, to Petra’s rose-red face,

In their shadowed halls, time's echo we can trace.

The Great Wall's serpentine grace, unyielding, vast,

Speaks of human toil and empires long past.

Hearken now, traveler, to my lyrical essay,

For the marvels of the world and cosmos here to stay.

Their tales are etched in time, their glories we unfold,

In every whispered legend, in histories told.

Among the constellations, where once Olympus stood,

Mortal children wander, in a brotherhood.

The planetary sanctums, once divine abodes,

Now markers on our journey, through the celestial codes.

Mercury's charred realm, where swift god’s message flies,

Now a stepping stone, under human skies.

A searing crucible, inhospitable and bare,

Yet in its orbit, our probes hang in the air.

Venus, shrouded in beauty, in love's eternal sway,

Her acid clouds and pressure, we’ve dared assay.

Beneath that veiled terror, secrets lie untold,

As rovers and balloons, her mysteries unfold.

On Mars, the warrior's field, where iron dust drifts wide,

No more a god's arena, but a place where rovers glide.

The barren battlefields, now stilled, serene,

Mankind’s red planet outpost, a sight unseen.

Jupiter's regal gaze, the sovereign of the skies,

His kingdom, full of tempests, where Great Red Spot lies.

A world of crushing force, where no flesh could dwell,

Yet through our lenses, we spy his carousel.

Saturn’s gilded bands, where father time reigns free,

His encircled beauty, a celestial marquee.

A symphony of moons and rings, our spacecraft's serenade,

With Titan's lakes and Rhea's plains, our odyssey's cascade.

To Uranus, the sky's patriarch, azure and aloof,

A tilted wanderer, distant and reproof.

Yet through our questing gaze, we’ve glimpsed his frosted glow,

A planet of sideways flight, in sun’s faint echo.

And Neptune, trident king, in ocean’s endless night,

His world of stormy blue, at the edge of human sight.

A distant whisper, cold and grand, a voyager’s dream,

In our telescopes beheld, more than just a gleam.

Oh, the ancients would be awed, to see how far we’ve come,

As we cast our eyes to the heavens, and to the planets succumb.

To the homes of gods we journey, their mysteries to unwind,

In the march of human progress, the leap of mankind.

VI.

[Chorus]

Oh, sing now, muse, of spacefarers bold,

Whose voyage through the stars in tales is told.

Apollo's thirteenth quest 'cross cosmic seas,

A crew enshrined in myth, whose memories never cease.

Captain Jim Lovell, master of the craft,

Whose steeled resolve has weathered many a draft.

From the Naval Academy's hallowed halls he came,

With wings of gold, to rise to acclaim.

Jack Swigert, in command module's seat,

An engineer with a mind for feats discreet.

The skies he knew as home, an Airman true,

In the silent vacuum, he proved his value.

Fred Haise, lunar module's guiding hand,

His valor quiet, his bearing grand.

A knight of skies, in war and peace he'd flown,

To the stars he soared, his bravery shown.

Gordon Cooper, whose name was known to all,

From Mercury’s dawn to Gemini's call.

He stood ready, though fate did not propel,

His legend with the backup crew to dwell.

Donn Eisele, Apollo’s earlier kin,

Whose journey to the heavens was writ within.

Though strife he knew, his legacy was cast,

In the silent annals of the astronauts' past.

Edgar Mitchell, mind ever on the stars,

Backup lunar pilot, his gaze beyond Mars.

His wisdom profound, in the cosmos did seek,

The truths of our existence, the future antique.

Stuart Roosa, who the capsule would command,

In the forest of life, his roots would stand.

With heart committed to the wild earth's call,

In the ocean of stars, he sought to enthral.

And Shepard, of the Mercury's heroic Seven,

His eyes on the moon, his heart in the heavens.

Commanded Apollo, with steady hand and clear,

His legacy enshrined in the astronaut's sphere.

Ken Mattingly, Apollo's guardian prior,

Whose competence in crises could never tire.

A pilot supreme, with record unblemished,

In the annals of space, his tale is finished.

John Young, with experience vast,

His command of the backup, a role so vast.

With precision and calm, he paved the way,

For the missions that would follow, in NASA's array.

Charles Duke, lunar module’s vigilant eye,

A man of faith, reaching for the sky.

His voice a comfort, in the void so stark,

Guiding his fellows through the vast and dark.

Vance Brand, Jack Lousma, William Pogue,

The support crew’s knowledge like a globalogue.

Their aid unwavering, through the mission’s duration,

Upholding NASA’s quest for space exploration.

Kerwin, Brand, Lousma, voices of mission's control,

Their words were lifelines, to each wandering soul.

They stood as CAPCOMs, through the void's silent breach,

Their guidance and wisdom always within reach.

Flight directors, Kranz, Lunney, Windler, Griffin,

Masters of the mission, their focus never stiffen.

The shepherds of Earth's celestial flock,

Against time and space, they raced the clock.

Their names inscribed in history's grand weave,

Their story of courage, we tenderly receive.

Apollo 13's crew, by fates unknown drawn,

In the canon of space, their legend dawns.

Embarked upon the vast, where silence reigns,

Past the mortal bounds, through celestial domains.

In their journey to the stars, they found our dreams,

And in their steadfast gaze, our future gleams.

In the year of sixty-one, a clarion call did rise,

From Kennedy's bold vision beneath the starlit skies.

He challenged the nation's spirit, to embark upon the quest,

To land men on the Moon's surface, and safely bring them back to rest.

With resolve, the agency of NASA took the charge,

Through Mercury's swift passages, and Gemini's fleet at large.

Till Apollo's silver chariot took to the celestial dance,

A lunar dream achieving, Kennedy's daring stance.

The mighty Saturn V, on Apollo's eleventh date,

Rose to meet that challenge, sealing a triumphant fate.

Sixth of its brethren, it thundered through the blue,

And in history's hallowed pages, Kennedy's dream came true.

Fifteen rockets of Saturn's name, the Titans of the skies,

Yet mystery veiled the number of attempts 'twould take to rise.

Hope sparked for ten grand voyages, where lunar secrets sleep,

But reality's harsh whispers, saw that dream was not to keep.

Even as the lunar dust settled from the Eagle's wings,

Congress's shears cut deeply, and dreams felt the stings.

Apollo's twentieth chapter, unwritten, left to mourn,

Ambitions of celestial shores prematurely shorn.

The heart of Mission Control, conceived in early days,

Preceding even first launch, a vision through the haze.

Crafted from the genius of Kraft, director prime,

His dominion absolute, his legacy to outlast time.

From Glenn's historic orbit, where Friendship 7 soared,

Came proof of Kraft's dominion, his command universally adored.

To challenge his directive, one would need the might,

To dismiss him in the moment, a battle none would fight.

Thus his role in Apollo, a doctrine set in stone:

"The flight director's will," it said, "shall stand alone.

To ensure the crew's safety, and their mission's gleaming crown,

Any action he deems worthy, he may call his own."

The Mission Control in Houston, in sixty-five came to be,

A tribute to the mastermind, a center by Kraft decreed.

Each flight controller's eagle eye, upon the craft did dwell,

With rooms of experts at their back, in support they'd excel.

Apollo 13, its numbered fate, an H mission in the stars,

Aimed to hone precision's art on the lunar surface, scarred.

To delve into Moon's geology, to seek, to touch, to understand,

Garnering samples of ancient rock, from the silent, storied land.

For though the Moon had felt the step of man's adventurous soles,

Apollo 13 sought to reach far loftier goals.

With science as its chisel, and geology its chant,

"From the Moon, knowledge," their creed, a scholarly jaunt.

Beneath the heavens, where Icarus did dare to soar,

Stands the threshold of the cosmos, with perils galore.

A hero’s quest commences, a narrative unwound,

As mankind and their vessels celestial bounds resound.

Amid this odyssey, an augury grim does seethe,

A specter of destruction, chaos sheathed beneath.

This lurking harbinger, unseen, unfelt, not heard,

Portends a trial by fire for those who among stars stirred.

Upon the razor’s edge, twixt vitality and void,

Are lives of star-bound voyagers, by dark fates employed.

In valor and conviction, their path they do embrace,

Astride the precipice of the vast, interstellar space.

Attend now, sons and daughters of this Earthly realm,

To the chronicle of Apollo, with heroes at the helm.

Apollo 13, a testament to human might,

Embarking to lunar seas, where darkness meets with light.

Their emblem, a shield of lore, a tapestry of dream,

Astride Apollo's steeds, aglow with solar beam.

His chariot, a golden blaze, 'cross the sable moon’s domain,

Casting forth the radiance of the god's celestial train.

Ex luna, scientia, thus their banner did proclaim,

From the moon, we harvest knowledge like the golden grain.

Yet Lovell, navy's proud son, on wisdom's anvil wrought,

Forged anew the creed, from knowledge, power is brought.

From the depths of ocean's fathom, to the moon's silent sea,

Ex scientia, tridens, their amended decree.

A triad of enlightenment, the sea, the moon, the sun,

Their mission interwoven with the trident’s might, as one.

In halls of the Academy, where future leaders dwell,

Lovell’s words ring out, a call to excel.

Beyond the mortal tether, to the celestial plane,

On Apollo 13's journey, by sea and sky to reign.

The vessel christened Aquarius, at Lovell's behest,

Stood ready for the lunar quest, a symbol blessed.

This module, bearer of life's tide, an auspice bright,

Akin to yore's celestial water-bearer, bearing light.

Not birthed from tunes of Broadway's famed affair,

Though whispers sang of 'Hair', the truth laid bare:

Aquarius, with purpose and with ancient ties,

Mirrored the mission's aim 'neath cosmic skies.

A moniker of depth, where water's gift is life,

Amid the lunar scape, where barren silence is rife.

With Aquarius’s essence, their purpose did align,

To seek, to find, to touch the divine.

Odyssey, the vessel's kin, a call sign of fate,

Chosen with a reverence for the adventures that await.

Its lineage steeped in epic tales of yore,

A journey vast, where mythic heroes lore.

In the light of Kubrick's visionary sight,

'2001', a spacefaring epic's flight,

The name Odyssey, within Lovell's mind did dwell,

And within his memoirs, its significance he'd tell.

A term that spoke of travels far and wide,

Of trials, tribulations, a turbulent ride.

So befitting of their craft, through the void propelled,

On a voyage through the heavens, by courage swelled.

The space vehicle that carried them forth,

A Saturn V rocket, numbered SA-508,

Identical to those before, but still of worth,

To carry the crew on their lunar date.

The rocket and spacecraft weighed much more,

Than any other flown by NASA before,

In the hallowed halls of NASA, where the dreams of flight took form,

There stood a rocket, S-IC its base, with power less than the norm.

Yet within the bounds of safety, it promised a celestial tour,

And the astronauts entrusted in its thrust, their passage to ensure.

The second stage, S-II, with its tanks of cryogenic sheen,

Was clad not in rigid panels but a spray, unseen, serene.

Its purpose to cradle hydrogen, in coldest state maintained,

With extra fuel aboard her, through the skies to be unchained.

Arrived at Kennedy's grounds in the warmth of sixty-nine's June day,

The rocket faced the rigor of tests, no detail left to stray.

December's chill did witness then, this vessel's grand rollout,

Apollo 13, poised and prepped, to cast off earthly doubt.

When space was still the final frontier, unknown, a vast expanse,

The heroes of Apollo dared to dream, to venture, to advance.

Thirteen, with seasoned crew aboard, their training sharp and sure,

Spent hours by the thousand, simulations to endure.

In mock-up cockpits, four hundred hours, their skills they honed and tuned,

Preparing for contingencies that space might have them marooned.

But not just craft and vessel's hold, the lunar soils they'd scan,

To grasp the Moon's elusive lore, that was the master plan.

From geologic insights, the mission found its stride,

As training with a learned sage, their lunar coach and guide,

To the sculpted lands of Fra Mauro, they journeyed here on Earth,

To mimic Moon's own rugged face, and measure its rocky girth.

The Fra Mauro site, a target for Apollo's daring leap,

Where secrets of a crater's heart in silence did they keep.

And Cone, with its alluring depth, beckoned with open clasp,

For drills to delve and samples to gather with triumphant grasp.

A clever ploy the planners held, to grant the LM more time,

To scout the selenic surface, and to its peaks sublime.

They'd dip the orbiting mother ship, in lunar embrace to sway,

To grant the lander's precious quest more time to probe and play.

ALSEP's suite of instruments, the mission's scientific eye,

To watch o'er lunar quakes and heat, beneath the airless sky.

The SNAP-27's atomic heart, within its frame encased,

Would power their efforts, bold and bright, across the barren waste.

Thus did Apollo's chosen ones prepare for their grand quest,

In simulators' mimicry and geology's test.

Through practice, patience, and pursuit, they steeled for history's page,

To soar beyond our azure home and into the cosmic stage.

[Chorus]

In ancient tales, where dreams took flight in night's embrace,

And mortals dared to cast their eyes upon heaven's face,

There stood a challenge, a silvery sphere to clasp,

With brave souls ready, in destiny's firm grasp.

At hour precise, as Earth spun on its silent hum,

Two thirteen post meridian, the eleventh of April come,

The engines thundered, Apollo’s chariot took its rise,

An odyssey commenced, under watchful skies.

But not all stars twinkled with favor on this quest,

An engine's heart skipped, surrendering its zealous zest,

A pogo oscillation, a mechanical beast's roar,

Threatening the journey from our terrestrial shore.

The steadfast outboards, their fires blazing with intent,

Left the faltering third, across the heavens sent,

With navigations set, the lunar pull their guide,

The module danced, in orbital embrace they glide.

As Earth grew distant, three days' voyage to Moon's domain,

Fra Mauro beckoned, a lunar highland to attain,

A change in course, a trajectory refined,

Humor found its place, in cosmic realms entwined.

The Lunar Module, Aquarius, tested, systems run,

An audience to court, a broadcast yet to stun,

But screens on Earth remained dark, the networks turned away,

Oblivious to the drama soon to unfold in the cosmic fray.

Then, in space's silent ballet, a grave misstep arose,

Yet from despair's deep grip, a shimmering hope did close.

The crew, unyielding, bound by unity and nerve,

From calamity’s edge, they swerved, their mission to preserve.

Through the vast void, they forged a tale of survival and lore,

An enduring testament, to the human spirit's core.

For when night’s curtain falls, 'tis the bravest who shall raise,

And etch their saga, in the endless celestial maze.

The poem continues here.