Bejewel the Dying Elephant
I bejewel dying elephants.
Scrape the mire from tired pillar feet.
Wash away the gray.
Reveal the pink satin soul...again.
I rub their tired tusks.
Scrub away the stained grooves.
Shade their great wild eyes from scavenger sun.
I have no use for the strong at their peak.
Nor haughty in its prime.
It's futile sparring with Mr. Jones.
Because he'll always have more time than I.
Time to kiss the hedges and keep his trim in line.
Yes, I'm a good down friend. But those days are at an end.
Because down people mostly bring you down.
I need to get up before my eyes pearl with death...
I bejewel dying elephants.
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