In realms where coders weave their coded song,
A legend stands, the Happy Hacking Pro,
With keys so sleek, where fingertips may go.
Oh, HHKB, keeper of the code,
You hold within your frame a sacred ode,
A symphony of clicks, so soft and light,
That dances through the silence of the night.
Each key a whisper, subtle in its touch,
A vessel of the words we hold so much,
A canvas for the thoughts that we convey,
A bridge to worlds both far and near away.
In realms of function, form is queen and king,
With minimal design, you softly sing,
The absence of the keys not often used,
Leaves ample space where fingers are not fused.
Compact, yet rich with possibilities,
You harbor endless coding facilities,
With Topre switches, silent yet profound,
You speak in tongues of binary sound.
In darkened rooms where glowing screens do gleam,
Your presence is a coder's dearest dream,
A companion through the midnight oil burned,
A confidant when tables have been turned.
Oh, Happy Hacking Keyboard, sleek and fine,
With every keystroke, you do intertwine,
The mind, the heart, the fingers, and the soul,
Creating works that make the broken whole.
With every tap, a symphony is born,
A melody of logic, finely worn,
Oh, Happy Hacking Pro, you stand apart,
A masterpiece, a work of coding art.
Pairs well with this lovely Trackball.