Precision’s dance, a waltz of measured grace,
Where numbers reign and errors dare not tread.
In science’s realm, each detail finds its place,
As truth and fact are carefully unwed.
Exactitude, the master of our craft,
Demands perfection in each word and deed.
No room for doubt, no space for sloppy draft,
In this domain where accuracy’s the creed.
Yet in this quest for perfect symmetry,
We sometimes lose the beauty of the whole.
For life’s not bound by pure geometry,
And art thrives where imperfections roll.
So seek the balance ‘tween the strict and free,
For wisdom lies where both can coexist in glee.
Bob Lynn / 16-Oct-2024
