Someone was asking about this old poem of mine. For some reason it is memorable. Here it is.

I measure twice to be precise

I measure twice to be precise

And make but one a cautious cut.

‘Tis patience, see, that’s got me here

To make the furnishings so nice.

I never rush or lose my thoughts but

I measure twice to be precise.

Now what rhetorical device

Can measure love? (And what

Is patience? See, that’s got me here.)

Perhaps a glimmering, just to entice,

Or nova star that’s briefly hot.

I measure twice to be precise,

And thus avoid I every vice —

Not once have I been badly cut.

‘Tis patience, see, that’s got me here

Alone with furnishings so nice

And doing always what I ought.

I measure twice to be precise.

‘Tis patience, see, that’s got me here.

Matthew Stolte

May 3, 2005