“To infinity and beyond!”

China’s lucky number;

The endlessness of the figure ate

Its way into my brain

Like a runaway train

Rolling along the track;

We’ll never end our journey

Never get to go back.

Spider’s legs;

And as sure as eggs is eggs,

And cows will e’er go moo

The figure eight,

I’d like to state,

Is my favourite number, too!

It’s always been a classic,

No other will compare,

It has a certain joie de vivre

And total savoir faire.

Huit!” the French would ecrit,

Otto!” heralds the Graeco-Latino

And “due!” and “neuf!” and many other a foreign numeric word

Don’t come anywhere near to “Eight!” that I have ever heard.

Not to say that the other numbers aren’t important, too;

For some of them are, probably, fun.

But, I have a problem trying to think, when pushed, just which one.

And, anyway, an eight is perfect, rounded and flowing

Whichever way along its sides and direction you are going;

You follow the curves and smoothly negotiate

The impeccable ratios of a proper number – eight!

So, you followers of three, six, or ten

Away with your nonsense,

I won’t say it again;

There are plenty of numbers of considerably lower rate

But, none loved by people… pirates… parrots… like my pieces of eight!

Pieces of eight!

Pieces of eight!

One response to “Eight

  1. Reblogged this on hangerfarmpoets and commented:

    And one from the archives. G:)

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