What foot will stand alone? every face is connected in a hundred ways
each erroneous jewel sharp friends have corrected in a hundred ways
if the atlas of earth gets revised every century mightn't tomorrow
yon brine arouse surprise? who'd such islands suspected in a hundred ways?
when faults are well-established blind habit's sore knees bump such similar chairs!
each surface of the form in the end gets detected in a hundred ways
are our love-declarations dark codes sightless bats will emit amid daylight?
each putative beloved soon self-de-selected in a hundred ways?
the poetry's reflection is the pool held in view when defeat is apparent
sheer cautzpah can achieve what was never expected in a hundred ways
in what north shines a star whose fond gaze for Ardeo beams pure & extant?
each aspirant to song grievous labor perfected in a hundred ways