Pluralities, a poem by Eugenie A. Nida

We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes;
But the plural of ox should be oxen, not oxes.
Then one fowl is goose, but two are called geese;
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a whole lot of mice,
But the plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the plural of man is always called men,
Why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?

Cows in the plural may be cows or kine,
But the plural of vow is vows, not vine.
And I speak of a foot and you show me your feet,
But I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?

If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?
If the singular is this and the plural is these,
Should the plural of kiss be nicknamed kese?

Then one may be that and three may be those,
Yet the plural of hat will never be hose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But we say mother, we never say methren.

The masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine she, shis, and shim.
So our English, I think you all will agree,
Is the trickiest language you ever did see.