Panning Prospectus

He is an old pan man and knows how to pan Finding gold is easy, the tricky one is diamond A diamond in the rough is a crude old stone But the one he would polish would be his own. So the pan man saw many a bauble, fine gems Worn by the great and by the not great at all Polished personalities without character's diadems He watched them like leaves turn gold and fall. Then from innate hunger of a lonely eye, he saw A woman worn hard by the ghetto's bitter law And yet her speech was full of grace, and dreams Were bubbles in the churn of frolicking streams But heart unbroken did not cease to hope, she Seemed a common stone to jewelers greedy eyes But he knew she was a diamond in the rough, he Knew this was the moment to which he would rise He courted her like a lady, for a lady she ever was She was the honeycomb and he the bee that buzz From flower to flower bring nectar to her sweet cell His diamond in the rough that by the river dwell. Then when his love had polished her to a finish The pollen fattened chrysalis suddenly was still And right before gawking eyes deformity vanish And a diamond back butterfly fluttered in the thrill.