Poem-The Perfect Gold

The Perfect Gold

 

Reddish brown hunks

on grayish trunks

But enough to attract

hungry gold drunks

 

I can hear them sing

like jingle bells ring

‘Shinning shimmering splendid’

Perfect for the king

 

Lift my iron friend

and send it ascend

Glistening rain falls

on my hands land

 

O it never rains

but pours

In burning red

no choice but fled

 

Jump into the sea

and set my hands free

Flame trees shade

The golden fade

 

Leave me in dismay

to collect the decay

Stagger to the workman

with the can of tan

 

‘Gadzooks’ he exclaimed

‘Great gold you claimed

Hard and stiff

Ready for gems to fit’

 

Confused and amused

My cloudy mind bemuses

The copper apples pop

on silvery stems cropped

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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