lapis is said to open the third eye
If mine were more open, I would be seeing spirit in my cereal
Then I would be tempted to be a cereal killer
I run around the gemstone store, avoiding every lapis piece I find.
It seems like others have a different story to tell.
“Lapis!” they yell as they come in with their friends.
To me lapis is an ugly stone anyway.
I have never felt the need to purchase it.
fluorite crystal is my stone of choice.
give me fluorite and you can have all the
ugly dull azure spotted lapis you want
Categories:
fluorite, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse
The hunk of beryl did not look like much.
“It eventually turns into emerald,” the shopkeeper said.
Still unimpressed, I kept hunting for fluorite.
I have bought more fluorite than most gem collectors.
Greed allowed me to pay forty dollars for the ugly piece of beryl.
It was gray-tannish in color, elongated, with a touch of green at its tip.
“How soon will it turn into emerald?” I asked, before leaving.
“Millions of years,” the shopkeeper told me.
It is rare that I feel cheated before I leave a store.
This was one of those times.
Categories:
fluorite, 6th grade, 7th grade,
Form: Free verse
Lapis is your power gemstone, the sage crone announces.
It will open your imagination to future projects.
You will no doubt be attracted to her as you wander the Psychic Fair.
Instead of being attracted, I am instantly repulsed by Lapis.
To me she is ugly, plain, dull, not pretty in any stretch of my mind.
Fluorite, topaz, and opals call my name.
I am mesmerized by citrine, rubies and fools’ gold.
Chryrsoprase delights me. I instantly purchase a piece.
Tiptoeing rapidly past the ugly lapis.
Categories:
fluorite, husband, self,
Form: Free verse
Rocks and stones and broken bones,
Hold stories all hidden away,
Stories of dead, who never forget,
Lit in the yearly display,
Where crystals of fluorite, fixed in the rock,
Stand once a year for a show,
Dance with the sun on the summer solstice,
Creating a colourful glow,
And spirits wake up, sharing their tales,
Waltzing with lights on the wall,
Waltzing and spinning with twirling red shades,
With a ghostly, colourful shawl,
And these rocks protect all of the love,
Of broken bones some say is witchcraft,
Some say it’s horror, but here they are wrong,
It’s dead folks celebrating the past.
Categories:
fluorite, death, happy, spiritual,
Form: Quatrain