Number-rhymes from Muriel Spark

     A dozen years ago I visited Edinburgh and there became acquainted with the poetry of Scottish writer Muriel Spark (1918-2006)  -- prior to that visit I had known Spark only as a novelist.  Today -- prompted by Thanksgiving celebration with grandchildren -- I have remembered an English rhyme that my own grandmother teased me with in childhood, "Going to St Ives" and, from there, I've recalled a pair of Spark's rhymes that follow a similar pattern.  I offer them below; despite strong rhyme, these are not entirely light fare--instead, they make us aware of the sad multiplication of bonds and wounds . . .

       Conundrum     by Muriel Spark

       As I was going to Handover Fists
       I met a man with seven wrists.
       The seven wrists had seven hands;