I can be constant, torsion or compression
Cantilever, coil, flat or machined
I’m in jewellery clasps and in trampolines
Serpentine or garter, volute or leaf
(That’s enough types of spring, good grief!)
I’m in your watches, I’m in your locks
I’m in your car, I absorb your shocks
I make pens work when you give them a click
Without me there’s no pogo stick
I’m in your sofas and in your chairs
I’m a slinky going downstairs
Well, that’s my spring poem but I fear
I might have got the wrong idea
