Make precious light on spires beside,
A flock between the yellow bricks,
O wind's ascent and longing stride,
Up to and heavenward the kick,
For much a man is his long gaze,
Which rightly sits along the flight,
To higher things and then perhaps,
His stature here below the heights.

Factoring fun to find the fun factor,
Unseaming composite numbers at the weave,
Although the inelegance of the cut belies,
We're dealing with some test coprimes.

Gracious gift of brothers,
Given to walk beside,
This modern life and darkened day,
To learn to pray,
To imitate as they
do unto Christ and lean on too.