Three blind mice. . .
tic tac toe. . .

Things come in threes
roll off the tongue
with clever rhythm,
grace and ease,

though’s said
that three counts
up to crowd,
in issues touching
belles and beaux.

Ergo, seems I must think twice,
for choosing meetings,
if I hope to make them nice–
What number drawn
is best betimes
twixt words, twixts folks,
twixt hearts or flowers,
or proper repetitions
to best learn
and know’t by rote?. . .

Or pendulums
for some wind-swung,
ringing, wood or metal chimes,
making natural music at its best,
to far surpass our pens’ and tongues’
most brilliant
words or rhymes.

This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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