A Poem (Pie and Pi)

 

A math class I once took did pique all my interest

(These were the days before teachers had pinterest)

When I found out that three, and a point, and fourteen

Made something called pie, but not like it seemed.

See, the pie was a number, a valued time saver

Not a plate that you’d pass after turkey and graver.

“You mean to tell me,” I shouted from back

“That pie is a number from our textbook ’bout math?”

The teacher replied “you finally caught on, it’s not just a dream!”

“Now stop asking questions ’bout pie and whip cream!”

And that day I found, perhaps more than before,

That pie is delicious… and three-point-one-four.

 

 

About radamdavidson

I'm a husband, dad, and pastor living in Portage, Michigan. I suppose I'm a euphoric melancholy generalist with average skills, experiences, and passions across several intertwined disciplines and hobbies including music, speaking, writing, leadership, ministry, and collecting cultural artifacts from the 1980's -- mostly vintage boomboxes. You can read my blog at www.radamdavidson.com, subscribe to my podcast (RadCast) or friend me on facebook.com/radamdavidson. about.me/radamdavidson
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