Pearls
I
found them
one by one.
Cut glass. A chime
of bells. Mists shuffling
in the sun. Old wood with
scent of lavender. Laughter
where children run. I hoarded them,
unmatched, unlit. And in time you came
to be the thread, the thread to string them on.
A pearl necklace like this is priceless, and the best kind to have. A beautiful etheree, for the form fits the subject exactly, each line a pearl on your thread.
ReplyDeleteOh this is no ordinary etheree. This isn't just a casual and unthinking putting-together of syllables. This is absolutely lovely - a true poem. I think it's beautiful, really I do.
ReplyDeleteOh, my lovely friends . . . what can I say? You're so kind I'm almost fillin' up!
ReplyDelete(Go to it, Jinks . . . double etheree about the Doc fillin' up. "Fillin' up what?", I hear you cry. HaHa! Go HERE and read through the comments carefully . . . )
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ReplyDeleteDoc
ReplyDeletemay fill
his wee boots
- or even can -
(with WHAT, I wot not!)
But be sure he's the man,
if anyone can be, to
fertilise ripe ground or maybe
even vegetables, with ideas
which produce a most bounteous harvest.
"the thread to string them on" Oh, that is just delicious....
ReplyDelete