Eight, dear eight

Don't let anyone say you're 'great'

Because you're fantastic

You're more than that you're -- 'it'

You are without ending

Without sides, without pointing

With you alone one can easily make

All the numbers a digital clock can take

Eight doors in my house

Eight clicks of a mouse

To purchase eight ice cream scoops

And a box of froot loops. 

You are zero's combined

You are easily rhymed

Your chocolate is  nice

I write your name in the ice

Cut you in half and slide you around

Attach any which way you will still be found

An 8 forever, an eternity sign

Oh, eight, dear eight, always be mine.

(Just had to add this note:  Eighty-eight is acutally my favourite number and I have been arguing it's merrits for many years now.  I somehow doubt this poem will every reach my truely favourite number, so I thought I'd make do with it's little brother, 8.  And four is half of eight, so it has my respect too.)

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Well, the whole point of this poem, which came to me randomly last night, is to count up. The first chapter is "one," the second, "two," and so on. Other than that, because this poem is just for fun, you can simply go wild!

updated Jul 21 by Fluffycrow