Duties Indigenous to
Possessing a Magical Stone
Note the ring I wear;
See, it has a magical
stone!
Such sparklers grant
wishes,
(All but my
own).
So, caravans, many from
far away,
Bring people, who push
at my halo, nightly.
Merchants implore my
jeweled band for success,
While youths make
inquiries for might.
Yet, this trinket, this
amazing gem,
My treasure odd,
enchanted, old,
Cant become my
profit;
(Charms become dust if
traded for gold).
Long ago, crones warned
my kin,
Not to try to glean
posture or wealth,
Rather to value higher
gains,
Especially friendship,
honor, and health.
Thus, I witness riches,
status, beauty,
Sprouting in
supplicants lives.
They become cuter, more
popular, better moneyed,
Than me, but its
my temperament that strengthens, thrives.
Except for the
Lops
Except for the lops
that scatter
Whenever ravens or
aircrafts cast
Shadowy beaks over
given forbs,
Field denizens live
ignorantly.
Except for those horses
running
Circles on Hippodrome
tracks,
Hoofs over dirt, manes
flying,
Stadium inhabitants
mostly thrive.
Except for lab
incarnations exposing
Weakened critters,
typically unearthed,
Following
husbandrys risky puzzles
Life exits cages amid
pus plus scarring.
Fritzi: A
Childs Comfort
I don't have any
pets.
So, when I'm alone,
fretting
It can be
upsetting.
I lock myself in my
bedroom,
(It's actually my dream
room),
Where I talk to my
stuffed cat.
Fritzi's very
pretty.
She's a calico
kitty.
Her whiskers, pure
black velvet.
Her purrs
resonate.
Her ears hold fast my
secrets.
Her nose smells no
regret.
I don't have any
pets.
So when I'm quite
upset.
I fasten the
latch
And engage my stuffed
cat.