As the Oyster Forms the Pearl
As the oyster forms the pearl,
So the poet pens the verse
As balm for the current ache
Born out of the ancient curse.
As the oyster feels compelled
To shellac the sandy grain,
So the poet feels the urge
To transmogrify the pain.
So the pearl grows rich and round
As its luster covers the sand.
So the verse unseen takes form
In its way, designed unplanned.
Sad the pearl that lies unseen
In the depths of the murky sea.
Sad the verse that dies unheard
In the heart clandestinely.
So the diver frees the pearl,
Breaks the stony shell apart.
So the poet frees the verse
Ripped out of his broken heart.
NOTES: Apparently there is some skepticism about my assertion that April is Poetry Month.
Let this settle the matter once and for all.
Let’s call this one an extended metaphor.
2 thoughts on “Poetry Month, Continued …”
I think in the old days an extended metaphor was called a conceit.
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I must be very conceited.