One to twin the sparrow’s trill
and two, raise an alarm
three to play a reveille
and five a pretty charm
eight to pipe a merry reel –
and thirteen, everything
that every little bird on earth
might lift its breast to sing
So trust the tune, my little dove
and light here in my lap
for melody sends flying free
the spirit words will trap
and while it dances through the stave
as the warp does round the woof
I’ll set you shuttling back and forth
to the drum-beat of my hoof
Aenigmata, ii