Four is the number for me.
I think of it every time I sneeze.
It’s One to breath in, Two to breath out
Three to wipe a messy snout
And four is when somebody blesses me!
4 is a number with points
No round bits at all to soften its joints
Just straight pointy edges to it
And the at the bottom a cool crossing bit
As sharpest number, 4, I’ll anoint.
Four makes a cool shape in my tongue
Like a tune waiting to be sung
It rests after three
And in a countdown you’re always ready
After four for the final bell to be rung