Thread: Perspicacious Poetic Ponderings

Excuse me young man,
I can't help but notice.
That cut on your face,
Was it made by a straight?

Why yes, yes it was Sir.
A sad tale of woe 'tis (pretty good rhyme, no? )
Yet here, take a seat,
And I'll tell of my fate.

I shave ev'ry day with a
Straight made of fine steel.
No scratch on its scales
And the blade's seen no rust.

But this morning while shaving
A prick there I did feel
When a young lady entered,
And showed me her bust

Of a young Isaac Newton.
Twas carved out of granite
An angular visage
With eyes ever eager

Said I to the lady
"Miss I'm a fan, it
appears you have kept
the head wrapped in your beaver

skin hat. Did you know
He invented the laws
that govern the motion
of planets and stars?"

Said she "Yes I know
Though I see there are flaws
when considering things
when they travel real fars."

So shocked was I by
her math'matical ability
My razor it slipped
In its course 'pon my cheek.

And that, my dear Sir
Is my tale of relativity
and the topic upon which
We do currently speak!

James.

HA! you NAILED it! Bravo!