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
3/18/2009

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

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