Poem: Precious Penny – 14/07/21

And here we are,
oysters, with caressing shells,
guarding our precious cargo,
treasures which bloomed,
prized is our interior,
luminescent, pearlescent factors,
created by us,
we are magicians,
view our splendour,
sorcery,
shall we slay the mirror?

For, creation,
this semblance of wonder
in our lives,
the more I enter my
inner being, the more
I find my, our
potential utterly amazing,
to have created something
from barely anything,
such beauty,
astounding.

While pink is mine,
yours is blue,
together we ballooned
with satisfaction and bliss,

off the beaten track,
lean in for a kiss,
the farmer reaches in
and wrenches Little She from me,

and now, darling,
bereft I am,
so empty,
they have taken away my precious penny,
but it was meant to be this way.
I create, they harvest,
I am forlorn,
used,
but truly, before the thieving,
I’m always treated like their princess.

© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Schäferle from Pixabay

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