One pair of
Chutes (one spells his ‘Shute’)
once shared
one pair of parachutes.
The two
proved resolute, to boot:
they’d
wear, unair’d, wet Wellie boots.
“A couple
o' parabolas,”
declares
one pair of gabb(e)lers,
“results in
psychobabble from
most
mathematics dabb(e)lers.”
One pair of
Bulls, one day in shul,
declar’d
one pair of parables.
One’s Mike;
one’s Scott. Pay heed and you’ll
hear bells not
toll’d at tractor pulls.
One pair of
grins – one’s yang, one’s yin –
once graced
one pair of peregrines.
“Good morning,
Minh.” “How fare thee, Flynn…?”
(If frowns such clowns wear, no one wins.)
One pair of
pets were order’d, “Get
thee b’yond
yon pair of parapets!”
Their fate…?
No fetes. (Here, on cassette,
view “Tigh ‘n’
Tigger’s Death Duets.”)
One pair of
Sauls (whose…? Montreal’s)
installs
one pair of parasols.
Just who
plants whose none now recalls,
nor were
there pressing protocols.
One pair of
dice – much-needed spice –
Eve’d
introduce in Paradise.
“S-s-s-so: you’d entice…? Heed Asp’s advice.
One uns-s-s-sliced
apple sh-sh-shall s-s-s-suffice.”
One pair of
Moores one can’t ignore
once took
one pair of paramours,
new senses
ceding (veil’d before)
to turns of
phrase like “two-by-fours.”
*
One early manuscript shows
“cellar doors” here. Another has
“parquet floors.” Both are early.
One pair of
graphs (can one but laugh...?)
attempts
one pair of paragraphs
to
paraphrase, though just one half
proves
readable; the other’s chaff.
One peer of
Keats (from l’hommes d’elites)
repeats one
pair of parakeets’
loquacity:
“Too-wheet, too-wheet!”
(L’eclairess’ment: “What’s shakin,’
Sweets…?”)
One pair of
docs (one Groucho mocks)
apparently’s
one paradox:
The short
one’s wily as an ox.
The shorter…?
Dumber than a fox!
Two pairs
of dimes – amalgams I’m
to view as
pairs of paradigms:
financial
fall guys for tough times –
now fail, I
fear, to “k’ching!” my chimes.
One pair of
Finns did, for their sins,
smear pairs
of beards with paraffins.
That each
bears pairs of double chins
diminish’d
ethane-damaged skins.
Of all
accounts of pairs of mounts
in Lit,
which pair be paramount…?
If Silver Rosinant’
surmounts,
does Dapple
Tonto’s Scout discount…?
Do “noids”
of Freud’s wax overjoy’d,
annoying
pairs of paranoids…?
Of pity
Sigmund proves devoid,
while Anna
schizoids now avoids.
One pair of
lies (who’ll pose the “why…?”s...?)
will
petrify and paralyze.
The first…?
That God bestrides the skies.
The second…?
That She prophesies.
One pair of
Rays (so someone says)
twin
virelays in paraphrase
determine
to compose…in days!
Fiasco…?
Let me count the ways.
One pair of
sites sits train’d tonight
upon one
pair of parasites.
Before they
flee (go left, flow right),
let fly…and
nuke their leukocites!
One pair of
Ds (thus: PAR-OD-DY)
misspells
completely ‘parodies’
and
orthographic’lly ODs…
unless
one’s speaking Parrotese.
One pair of
cleats to prink two feet,
one each
for pairs of Paracletes.
Two’d be
taboo; yet still they’re fleet.
Pete
poach'd the pair. (Pete always
cheats.)
One pair of
blasts, one day long past,
destroy’d
one pair of parablasts.
One film
crew on the scene was gass’d.
Press
sketches…? None like Nast’s nor Chast’s.
One pair of
cells, one chemist tells,
invade one
pair of paraceles
within
one’s brain, where – swell! – they’ll
swell,
until one’s
hearing “boids ‘n’ bells.”
Who’ll
swear to share au pairs – in pairs –
with Herr Moliere…? Au pairs like theirs
could care
for heirs of trillionaires.
(Their
nightmares…? Or their answered prayers…?)
A pair of
guys (I tell no lies!)
discovered
pairs of Paraguays.
The one…? A
tropic paradise.
The other…?
Shades of Paris skies.
Parameters…?
I don’t know yours,
but mine rate
pairs of amateurs
who’re
fabricating haut coutures.
(One hopes
that “off-the-rack” endures.)
Paracelsus Hohenheim,
a Swiss
physician friend of mine,
says, “On
one pair o’ seltzas dine
each day.
‘Twill keep ya feelin’ fine.”
