5d
THE KIND OF THINGS POETS THINK/DO
all its little life
the triangle longed to be
a circle
"I want to get around!"
it piped up
in its little Isosceles voice
"It's...it's preposterous!"
screamed his mother Scalenely
"...whoever heard of such a thing!"
"You should be proud of your lines!"
scolded its grandpa
Equilaterally
"A triangle can not be..."
said his Papa in a right angled kind of way
"...anything other than a triangle!"
"I always felt I was a circle
trapped inside
a triangle's body!"
one day a passing poet
eavesdropped in an idle moment
on what the lines were saying
"Why ever not...why
ever not" said the poet
poet chaps tend to think like that
so he erased the brave
little Isosceles
drew him again as a circle
"Wheee!"
laughed the former Isosceles triangle
delighting in its circle-ness
this is the kind of things
poets think of
poets do
*
Ahhhh this wasn't Maths...this was play...teaching Tilly her triangles as a bedtime story. and the technical terms didn't phase her as they were just luscious sounds and she went marching about the house the next day proclaiming isosceles in a a loud declamatory tone with lots and lots of spit....scalene was also a delight to say with barred teeth which she used to frightened the cat...equal...lat...or real was her brave attempt at the other...so she knew her shapes and what was what and had a lot of fun doing it...she was only 5....and a little tomboy....someone had told her that girls can't do that...so as well as teaching her her triangles....she was also being told that hey....you think it...you can do it...she was only 5....and a little tomboy....someone had told her that girls can't do that...so as well as teaching her her triangles....she was also being told that hey....you think it...you can do it...
This was Tilly's TELL ME A STORY! one night in the long long ago-ness of her girlhood. Little did I know I would be still telling it all these years later..wonders will never cease.
all its little life
the triangle longed to be
a circle
"I want to get around!"
it piped up
in its little Isosceles voice
"It's...it's preposterous!"
screamed his mother Scalenely
"...whoever heard of such a thing!"
"You should be proud of your lines!"
scolded its grandpa
Equilaterally
"A triangle can not be..."
said his Papa in a right angled kind of way
"...anything other than a triangle!"
"I always felt I was a circle
trapped inside
a triangle's body!"
one day a passing poet
eavesdropped in an idle moment
on what the lines were saying
"Why ever not...why
ever not" said the poet
poet chaps tend to think like that
so he erased the brave
little Isosceles
drew him again as a circle
"Wheee!"
laughed the former Isosceles triangle
delighting in its circle-ness
this is the kind of things
poets think of
poets do
*
Ahhhh this wasn't Maths...this was play...teaching Tilly her triangles as a bedtime story. and the technical terms didn't phase her as they were just luscious sounds and she went marching about the house the next day proclaiming isosceles in a a loud declamatory tone with lots and lots of spit....scalene was also a delight to say with barred teeth which she used to frightened the cat...equal...lat...or real was her brave attempt at the other...so she knew her shapes and what was what and had a lot of fun doing it...she was only 5....and a little tomboy....someone had told her that girls can't do that...so as well as teaching her her triangles....she was also being told that hey....you think it...you can do it...she was only 5....and a little tomboy....someone had told her that girls can't do that...so as well as teaching her her triangles....she was also being told that hey....you think it...you can do it...
This was Tilly's TELL ME A STORY! one night in the long long ago-ness of her girlhood. Little did I know I would be still telling it all these years later..wonders will never cease.
