Read my lines upon a stick,
walk my paces off.
Add me up for what you get,
figure out the cost.
Convert me to your native speech,
check my sphere in size.
Read my tag inside your pants,
make sure I'm not to wide.
You should yourself know what I am,
though sometimes I surprise.
If gold or silver I'm a ton,
to man I'm quite a treasure.
Seven letters in my word.
Yes,
my name is measure.
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/measure-3/
