Like the showman, trying to keep
All plates spinning on their poles,
The Magician starts to whirl
Tiny orbs around the sphere.
Some go fast and some are large,
While some are clear as drops of sand,
But they all flow round the stage
On elusive nylon threads,
Reflected only in the light
That cannot reach the farthest edge.
No applause, the stalls are bare
For this great game of solitaire.
All plates spinning on their poles,
The Magician starts to whirl
Tiny orbs around the sphere.
Some go fast and some are large,
While some are clear as drops of sand,
But they all flow round the stage
On elusive nylon threads,
Reflected only in the light
That cannot reach the farthest edge.
No applause, the stalls are bare
For this great game of solitaire.
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