Ten is perfection on many measures.
Bo Dereck prancing in the tropical sand.
Nadia Comaneci waving on the Olympic stand.
Poemhunter poets posting their treasures.
Not forgotten was Virginia Apgar in the fifties
who devised a scoring system
to measure health of newborn babies.
Doctors now judge babies on five factors,
maximum two points each for pulse,
grimace, appearance, respiration, and activity.
My daughter was a nine, and son an eight.
He could have been a ten
if he had peed straight.
Humankind organizes, catalogues, assigns numbers to its members. I agree with this author that one 'could have been a ten/ if he had peed straight'. Luckily Pelè, (do you remmember soccer? he played with the Cosmos) , wore the shirt number ten.
Lovely poem Jim...made me smile...I do enjoy reading your poems...thank you...Fi
Brilliant! light hearted and fun. Brought a smile to an otherwise cold and grey morning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hahahahahaha. I liked the conversational tone of this piece and the information on these 1-10 scales we live under. Love the sense of humor!