Poetry Like Pendants
Some poems are like pendants that go
With only particular sweaters
Or those works of art that
I tuck away in private pleasure.
The words don't come sometimes
But the eternal thoughts will be there
For you experience the sublime
With maybe a reader and a(?) universe.
The precision, truth, and decisions
That link the tread of verses
Will have followers veering their paths
To see the shiny objects, like onlookers.
The mood may shift you to slow
To a rhythm foreign and perverse
But one rule I believe sovereign
Where we meet is finders keepers.
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