Jeweller Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Premium Member About Beauty

Although we all enjoy
Looking at beautiful things,
Appearance is shallow
And often means nothing.

However, if to take a deeper look
Is the option we choose,
We'll find colourful qualities 
As jeweller finds rainbow hues.

For like the facets in a diamond,
True inner beauty radiates.
A mere glance will miss so much!
Just a thought to contemplate. 

The most extraordinary people
Are not the glamorous who pose.
Their beauty lies in who they are
And is as delicate as a rose.

They may not have a nightingales voice
Or the perfect figure.
But their hearts are golden
And couldn't be much bigger.

If you base your estimation 
Of a person on their looks
You forget that this is just a backing
To their story book!

Taking time to turn a page or two,
Do you know what you will find?
Someone truly beautiful 
Rare, precious and kind.

Premium Member Bangles on her Arms

My grandmother passed on her untarnished eight bangles to my mother,
My mother passed on the same exquisite bangles to me,
I asked my daughter when she got married “do you want these bangles?”
She said “These are pretty, but too tiny for me  - I won’t be able to wear them.”

The jeweller had a suggestion-
After all, they are all precious metals! Twenty-four carat! 
He turned those unadulterated gold into an elegant necklace.
My heart sank parting with those ornate pieces, 
which connected me with the women, 
who paved my way so that 
I did not have to live the life they did.  

Now those bangles shine only on a picture of me in a wedding dress!

timeless elegance

gem curvative dares jeweller 
raw in form frequencies utter
each face fractal superlative — 
dares jeweller gem curvative 

sees she bright pendant perspective 
each face fractal superlative ~
blow torch on the precious stone see
bright pendant perspective sees she

agree ! rapture names her trade's game 
design is to lure one of fame —
timeless elegance captures fee 
her trade's game name rapture, agree !

an heirloom gleans this gem to be
timeless elegance captures fee
jeweller's unmatched finesse see
this gem to be an heirloom, glean …


Nuanced

Tiptoe the finest, fine twine, needle-eyed thread
and a glitzy sequined clasp, tiny
tweezer-tie it finger-tip fast with a nuanced knot -
my, my, the pedantic perfection of the master jeweller.

I have the servile subtlety of thick thumbs,
all clumbsy carpals, my fudging finesse
better suited to a beanie'd stevedore, loud lugging
heavy-haired harbour rope to ship-secure
a brutish lump in the line.

Tongue tied up, spun on my own silver yarn
like a crystal jeweller, giddy with champagne giggles,
dizzy on a spinning chandelier high strung from the pressed ceiling.
Oh non, pas moi! Mine is more an oiled elegance,
heavy handed, ham-fisted like a scabby wharf rat,
chased and unchaste.

Dextrous in the strangest ways -
gutsy and glamourous,
ours is a nuanced life of grunting grime
with the briefest flashes of bedazzled dance.

DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE

Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

Jovial Dr Jekyll played for juvenile Justice
                    a just jaspered journey
jokingly jumped a joyride 
                                to juicy jukebox jabbering 
in jackal jackboots 
                         from nearby jungle 
                     
Dr Jekyll clasped a jackknife eating 
                                  jambalaya to justify a 
                             juggled juxtapositional 
jurisdiction jamming 
       as jugular vein jingled jewels 
joyfully jauntily jaywalking 
                 to a jay named Jim Jolly ! 

Onward he jumped to a 
                                   Jungian junction 
              Jupiter jocund watching his 
 journeying joints
              journalese seemed a jibe jig
but neither Jewess, Jesuit 
                            or jeweller jiggled this job

So he jerked his jess 
                          like a jape for Japan
Jejuning onto January for the 
                           next jangle of jasmine 
 
No jellyfish was Dr Jekyll in Jordanian jerkin 
           though sometimes Mr Hyde
                   with jeroboam swirling alongside !

The Jeweller

I like writing poetry,
I like making jewellery to.

I try to make my designs quite bold,
I try to use silver or gold.

I cut and I file,
And all of the while,
I make sure the gold dust is collected in one big pile.

When I have collected a lot,
I heat it, so it is extremely hot.

Then when it's ready to pour,
I am able to make more,
Of the most beautiful jewellery,
Better than anything that you ever saw.


A Harmonious Swirl

Fashion house store, jeweller
Bistro, awned tasteful -
Spin out each of your light's
Burnt orange, tactful

This chill eve's way, waist-wrapped
Mists two, affianced.
For this one fine purpose;
Conspicuous doth
Show up, honours a love.
Soft, warm, now enhanced.

Premium Member Mummy Daddy

I want you to meet my mum

Oh no, not the mum
That means I could be the one
There goes the fun
Time for a ring
That couple thing
Need a plan
Insanity is in the man
Hun, I’m slightly gay
It’s always been that way
I try to hide it
But it just won't go away

I know babe
That’s what I love about you
You’re feminine too

Man, what have I done
Where do I run
Okay, plan two
Hun, think of the kids
What would they think
Daddy wearing a dress
Their little faces
Such a mess

Don’t worry babe
Take my hand
Let me introduce you
This is my mum

My god, what a body
So fit
Where’s that jeweller
Book the church
I’ll marry her mum
And then some
I’m in love

Babe, don’t get carried away
There's something I have to say
It’s about my mum

Hun, tell me all
Write it, ten feet on the wall
Watch me fall

Babe, my mum’s my dad
Aren't you glad 
You being that way too
So understanding
It was like God sent you

Okay, I've kind of went numb
Something just registered
Call me dumb
But It seems to me
Or maybe I’m slow
Have I just joined a feckin freak show.

Premium Member Fair Exchange

A draftsman called Tom bought a ruler
He gave it to colleague Talulah
Astounded to find
She paid him in kind
And what he needs now is a jeweller

Lucky May

LUCKY MAY
May, May is welcome
And by these roads, these lanes
Young people come to home
To sing to my sisters.
What pretty they are
With her golden hair
And coloured lassos
And my mother combing them
To disentangle it.
That is their faces
What face so bright¡
Their lips,  what loveliness¡
Painted with lipsticks
Where the same Cupid
A Kiss plant.
Their eyes, waht pretty and lovely¡
As star lighting the same Sky.
Their snub noses
(I wish I could to have them¡)
Silver twists are
That none of the jeweller
Knows draw
Only mother Daniela
As their ivory teeth
And their two little bust
Behind their white blouses
As two early lemons
With a dress of virgin
With brads in its shorts
Straight to the point
Axle of dancing and music
Moving their nice legs
And their agile feet.
And Me, now, an injured angel
With all my features as seraph
Imploring to our mother
That she plays a May with me
Dressing me as my sisters
With Rosemary flowers
With legominous flowers
Puting in my hand
A palm of Sun and Moon
As my lovely sisters
Because I want to dress as a little girl
And don’t want  to be more
The Little man of the home
In the Lucky May.

Lucky May

LUCKY MAY
May, May is welcome
And by these roads, these lanes
Young people come to home
To sing to my sisters.
What pretty they are
With her golden hair
And coloured lassos
And my mother combing them
To disentangle it.
That is their faces
What face so bright¡
Their lips,  what loveliness¡
Painted with lipsticks
Where the same Cupid
A Kiss plant.
Their eyes, waht pretty and lovely¡
As star lighting the same Sky.
Their snub noses
(I wish I could to have them¡)
Silver twists are
That none of the jeweller
Knows draw
Only mother Daniela
As their ivory teeth
And their two little bust
Behind their white blouses
As two early lemons
With a dress of virgin
With brads in its shorts
Straight to the point
Axle of dancing and music
Moving their nice legs
And their agile feet.
And Me, now, an injured angel
With all my features as seraph
Imploring to our mother
That she plays a May with me
Dressing me as my sisters
With Rosemary flowers
With legominous flowers
Puting in my hand
A palm of Sun and Moon
As my lovely sisters
Because I want to dress as a little girl
And don’t want  to be more
The Little man of the home
In the Lucky May.

Premium Member My Beautiful New Ring

Stunning purple full of beauty and grace
I still can’t wipe the smile from my face
Today I purchased an amethyst ring
It is very subtle not full of bling
You saw on my face the joy it will bring
You re-sized it for me so it would fit
I would have paid extra but you wouldn’t hear of it
You gave me a discount and then you did say
Could I clean your sapphire ring for you today?
So now I have two shiny rings one old and one new
But when I wear them I will always think of you

I am sending this poem to the Jeweller in Haworth Yorkshire – he truly made my
day with his kindness

Jan Allison
5th August 2014

My Dirty Little Stones In a Pouch

my dirty little stones in a pouch
received in a hotel one night
slid them under my pillow
dreamt sweetly
opened the pouch in the morning after breakfast

saw dirty little stones
wondered what they could be
went to smith the jeweller
sat on the couch as i waited for him to wash them
came to me holding something glittery

it was diamonds
i jumped up and down
told him he could sell them on a black market
take his share
i locked them in my safe at home

would you like to hear more
before i do that
i have to go and testify at the hague
diamonds are forever and you too should have them

Dear First Lady

Tears bring the eyes its shivering spangle of stars
In liquid pools dilating light
The firmament spiraled to bandage time’s scars
Shining in empty bowls night

And sometimes the common carbon of the air
In soul deep fires like butterflies
Becomes the diamonds from our despair
Uncut by innocence to prudent eyes.

And you from your shining White House saw
The fluid dreams of frigid seasons
Bent to touch us, and in your warmth to thaw
The icy conducts of pride’s false reasons

We had only eyes to tell the luster of our glee
Muted with wonder at your love
Bridging the callous constellations of history
To dent the songless cages for each dove

How shall we thank you for feathering our dreams
To vault the pole-less blue of sky
Dear First Lady, the joy that in us stuttering gleams
Make us the jewels of your eye

You bring us hope, you shining tiara of the sultry past
You jeweller setting us to shine
Against rabid scorn of white winters' withering blast
No cheap rubble again, the stones you leave behind.

The Jeweller

Seeing through the red filter
the sun reflecting on his
iris....
Viewing details through a 
magnifying glass...
A microscope..
A jeweler forges his metal
Sets his stone.
Paying attention to detail
he etches every little hair,
every little speck.
Observing nature's moods,
shifts,changes,he records+
draws in his journal his 
discoveries for this new
Season.

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