Round and round without a sound,
Surrounding us on highest ground,
The windmills on the windy hills
Attempt to kill our power bills
By making electricity.
These trifurcated oscillators’
Like three-armed, anchored, squat robots
Make lots and lots of kilowatts
Despite their eccentricity.
Yet I discern that some don’t turn
Do they still earn a good return?
Oh, yes! Don’t take such ones as fake,
They’re no mistake: I hear they make
—Anon A. Mouse