My ears: they are the best of friends,
and any quarrels my brain mends.
That car is coming from your left
proclaims the first, so smart and deft.
No I think it’s on the right
the other’d yell, no doubt in sight.
But then my brain would strut right in,
and set to put things right again.
It’s on the left, you dumb, blind fools.
I have the smarts, you’re just the tools!
And since my ears are both those things
(blind, for sure, as bats with wings),
they’d take their post and listen sharp
poised to hear the train or harp.
One blessed day there came a sound:
ethereal, not earthly bound.
It soared and rippled through the air,
teased my neck at ever hair,
kissed its way into each ear,
who perked right up prepared to hear.
They registered the honey tone,
and soon discovered on their own
that this was something sweet and new,
thick and fresh as morning dew.
They heard it clear: its pure refrain,
and promptly went to tell the brain.
Brain, we heard the sweetest tune!
It made us cry; it made us swoon.
What is this voice that shakes our core?
We haven’t heard such sounds before.
And so the brain, prepared to tell
my ears the meaning of the knell,
listens hard, and takes a pause.
He thinks and thinks, but knows no cause.
He could not place the instrument
producing such a stimulant.
And then a voice from down below
Calls the brain to let him know-
Here comes your girl, remarks my heart,
but do not let her give you start.
I know you haven’t heard her yet
There is no way you could forget
The timbre of her calming words.
They’re soft as down and sharp as swords
And so my mind admitted true:
he never heard a sound like you.