The Riddle Poem by Bill Simmons

He drained the tree, he chained the bird
To a platform at the trunk
And when it was he raised it high
One could hear kaplunk

And too when he raised it high
Like a kite tied to a string
The bird would begin to fly
It would wound the blasted thing

Sure enough the crowds they gathered
They circled just like a ring
He tried to tell them what it was
But they couldn't understand a thing

Tic toc, tic toc, it's not a clock
Said one as he cupped his eyes
But I can see as I look up high
The bird I see still flies

He told them again what it was
But still again in vain
They simply kept right on guessing
They gave it all sorts of names

Now if wisdom has come to you
And you think you know the truth
Just email me on what you think it is
And perhaps I'll say it's true.

copyright 2005 Bill Simmons
aka BillWilliamStar@aol.com