Wicked, Wicked Little Things

Wicked, wicked little things,
are wooden sticks for measurings.
I prefer to use instead; the eyes,
that nature put within mine head.

No serpentine tape to encompass,
for I prefer the looking glass.
I feel where things should fit and be,
and this makes perfect sense.....


at least to me.


No snake-like tapes or ruling sticks,
enslaving me in their hellish matrix.
I might decimate a craft or two,
But I like eyeballing things; Don't you?

For swirling fabrics like a dervish dance,
without measurly pomp and circumstance.
And cakes rise much higher in the air,
If there's a pinch more leavening in there.

And drinks and punch be less hum-drum,
If hands splashed in a bit more rum.
Lesser men could master the bedroom,
Without measuring-up romance in bloom.

The qualities of life would abound,
maidens wouldn't utter gasping sound,
When the school physicals came around.
Yes,the world would be more happy and round....

If psychic measurings would abound.
 
by Kimarie Manhart-Freeman