Metal Fields and Mountain Pinnacles

Copper blooms, titanium too below the iron of the sky Rich fields of ore, quarried, lay everywhere without a quarrel In conjunction with all things shiny on the land and rust of day Mountains pinnacles are miles high With gold draped cliffs of drifting yellow beads of brass Green vegetation grows around them to quell their worries Reaching to be free from electricity, thermal conductivity Streams that run along the fields of metal valley mines Gray with aluminum strands soft and solvent Punctuate the landscape up above Anodizing, analyzing, thinking they are zinc So much of zinc below the solid surface riches All this to be discerned by proper science expeditions Metal machines gather what they need to feed their kind Golden days, silver nights, tongues of tungsten Wrap themselves around themselves for warmth Metalloids are not yet born or forged Malleable to shaping when they come Some nonmetallic friends stop by to see the young Marble and silicon are spies Disclosed, exposed as such Despised, disposed of for their corrosive side and lies Platinum dressed in blue arrives Stays to take a smoke or two Smoldering in a blistering sun Smelted, furn-aced for the future To be tempered into something smooth To contemplate the truth with other alloys Query how all metals can be used How Earth can hold itself together with the ores Both in the ground and in the metal fields outside To lay aside barren lands their souls in sun for warmth Metal-tate a way to feel the force They carry on and need no water Of course rocks are most jagged and driest on mountain tops They yield the finest metals, minerals at their pinnacles up there And where suns furnace first glowed on Touched the tip of Earth Up there still, refines, defines the metal fields 9/22/14 Pinnacle - Poetry Contest