A crippled Scalene Triangle went limping with his cane

And met a jolly Circle upon a level plane.
 

"How do you do?" "And how are you?" they said like you and me

And then sat down together 'neath an old geome-tree.
 

And while they loitered in the shade they told the village news:

Right Triangle's baby crawls on its hypotenuse.
 

The Perpendiculars, they said, had quadruplets last night

And though it's much too soon to tell, they ought to be all right.
 

Obtuse Angle's home from school and with his parents stern.

He's not acute, he isn't right.   He's just too dull to learn.
 

The Parallels are pleasant twins who never fuss or fret

Though they must act like strangers because they've never met.
 

Someone said that Poly Gon had eaten too much cake

And her indigestion's awful with so many sides to ache.
 

One Quadrilateral, they say, will always treat you fair.

He's quite a regular fellow and he signs his name "B. Square!"
 

His cousin Rhombus won't sit at all but slumps down in the chair

And all the teachers frown and say, "I wish you'd act like Square."
 

Scalene's cousin never limps but walks with greatest ease

Because his legs have equal length.   His name's Isosceles.
 

A chap whose name is Trapezoid is shaped quite like a bin;

Two sides are level parallels and two sides just slope in.
 

The Point thinks he's important though he hasn't any size.

He knows he has position and position satisfies.
 

But should he move, he'll make a streak, a streak so very fine

It hasn't either depth or breadth.   They call the streak a Line.
 

And when a Line gets restless and moves from here to there

It generates a Surface like a Cube or Sphere.
 

And if a Surface moves -- Well! Well! Hang on and keep it steady

For the subject's getting solid and you're really not quite ready.
 

Soon Circle yawned and Scalene stretched and both sighed wearily

And in geome-tree's deep shade they slept like you and me.