Pearl

 

Pearl

 

Over the sea and far away enough,

there lies a yard upon a hill,

rising above your common swill,

of cloistered walls from fluffy stuff

and bounded by sweet dewberry moats,

where on she sails her paper boats.

And, one day, there came a time

he called to cast pearls before a swine.

Oh, but you are wasting breath,

coos she from within a pigeon breast

and coquette, for I am quite made up,

being but a diminutive of Margaret,

while she puzzled at an oyster, tight shut

and immune to her prizing thumbs.

So, she beckons to him - come, come,

gives him a quaint, entitled look,

of precious, precious, an oyster’s book

quite sealed, dear, and he does surmise

that contentment is too great a price

which he cannot afford and lacks.

No, cries she and happy, we must act,

this world’s is but my stage,

write for me my lines upon your page,

and let me seize the day.

The shell shut fast in mystery,

but she adorns herself among weeds

and something flowers. He leaves

quaysides built of paper on card

upon the hill; within bricked up yard,

cloying moats and algae sieves,

are ropes and ropes to hang her with.