Triangle Of Life

Their triangle’s attraction forces life

To rise in competition to the end.

Eternal passions flow from silent strife

Without which even fresh green love must bend.

Such sibling tension, sweetly balanced, means

No respite had; the rivals never rest

As each holds to their space and, forceful, leans

Against the other, for its bond to test.

Yet, though they surge, still level all will hold,

Maintaining unity, as three in one decree

That we, dry prisoners, might be paroled:

Maternal triangle - it springs us free.

Life-giving mother holds each fiery daughter:

Two hydrogens, one oxygen - ‘tis water!

(George B. Hill, Mar 2013)

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The Gas That Chemists Hate

Laboratory chemists hiss its name:

An unseen gas that wrecks their finest work!

Reactive, it’s their poison and their shame,

Revealing scientists that shirk

Hard graft to keep this enemy outside

Their gleaming, glassy cases. Held on show

With clamps and frames, displayed with haughty pride,

These tell where chemists want to go

To change our race’s future. So, repel

This deadly foe! Too potent, it attacks

Most other elements, makes sick the well:

It’s inescapable, like death and tax.

And yet – it heals without detox! See, then,

We breathe! – and find we do need oxygen.

(George B. Hill, Apr 2013)

(with apologies for the excruciating final rhyme!)