by Sylvia Plath
I’m a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf’s big with its yeasty rising.
Money’s new-minted in this fat purse.
I’m a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I’ve eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there’s no getting off.
There are 9 letters in the title, 9 lines, and 9 syllables in each line. A perfect fit for our September theme of “Labor Day,” and even more perfect on the 9th day of the 9th month.