Round,
Like a casting on a faceplate
Like the backgear of the mill
Never ending or beginning
Like the chuck that’s on the drill
Or a centre in the tailstock
Or a green grit grinding wheel
Like a Myford lathe that’s turning
Parting endless bars of steel
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the ‘thou’ upon its face
And the world is like a lead screw
Twisting endlessly in space
As the collet chuck unwinds
Off the ENDMILLS of your mind…..
Sorry…I couldn’t resist it !
W.
Edited By WALLACE on 08/06/2014 00:09:23
Edited By WALLACE on 08/06/2014 00:10:32
Edited By WALLACE on 08/06/2014 00:21:15