What Am I?

I'm a household item, short and stout
Here is my handle and here is my spout
When I get all steamed up hear me shout
Tip me over and pour me out.

I have got no body, just a face
Three slender hands in perpetual chase
On a wall or in the hall is my fair place
Counting that which leaves no trace.

I have got a body, neck, and pegs
I can't stand alone for want of legs
I sing for all the world, from prince to dregs
Strum and lyric, the music begs.

I have neither form, nor shape, nor sound
Enkindled within hearts that race and pound
Enrich, vivify, enchant, astound
Though unsighted, I'm known when found.

Parker Allen Stacy, IV

Copyright 2009 Parker Allen Stacy, IV. All Rights Reserved.

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