A poem about the ways in which we get warm
I hate being cold.I love being hot.Three ways to get warmAnd I want the lot.Three ways to warm the whole of creation;Conduction, convention and, of course, radiation.
A poem and a puzzle about apes eating eight pairs of pears.
Eight pairs of primatesCame to tea,Fruit was on their minds.Those hungry monkeys,Eight would eatAll that they could find.