Formula Fe2 O3
Iron is just awesome – let’s see!
First it was prehistoric man
Who was always an iron fan
Iron is a third of the earth
Industry is iron by birth
Pritchard designed and Darby made
Iconic Iron Bridge won’t fade
Smelt pig iron from iron ore
Produces cast iron galore
Backbone of skyscrapers, bridges
Organs of cars, washers, fridges
Clever Bessemer carbon gone
Heralded steel for everyone
Mankind’s most ingenious feat
Turning raw earth to steel – so neat!
Iron’s compounds are versatile
No wonder it’s used all the while
Inks, fertilisers, pesticides
Paints, enamels and more besides
Many iron phrases pervade
Each as an English language aid
There’s ironclad, iron curtain
Iron grip and more for certain
We need it in a small amount
For on haemoglobin we count
Open your eyes and look around
Everywhere an iron surround
Iron has magnetic appeal
First place must be iron with steel
I met them at work,
Dressed perfect for this art—
Crop tops that teased,
And curves played their part.
They were mining,
The rarest of ores—
Soft as glass,
Pure as stars.
No shovels in hand,
Just allure and sway.
Bodies bare, daring to be
The "baddies" of the day.
A man desperate to find,
Something pure, something kind.
Craving love to ease his mind,
Like a baby, unrefined.
But miners know not
To linger deep in the hole.
Once they've struck the ore,
They abandon the soul.
Leaving the earth exposed,
Erosion sets in fast.
Cultivation forever lost,
A once-green man now a shadow of the past.
A gold digger's task,
Weeks of mining, fleeting sight.
The ore uncovered,
The gold stripped overnight.
There once was a woman, "Plus sighs"
Who was known for her "Hungry Eyes"
Although she loved food
She soon had a brood
By switching to group exercise! *
*When the French discovered a land
teeming with food, grapes, and beautiful
women, they shouted, "Orgie en!"
which British censors translated as,
"The gold is gone" from the
Rendezvous pidgin, "Or est GONE!"
Oregon's motto is, "She soars on her own wings"
So you decide whether it was the girls
or the lack of gold . . . .
When my parts are no longer my sum
When I come undone
I will be iron as blood no more
Rust in peace
6/12/2020
burrow of silence,
empty links worn - crimson flaws;
fearing bare hallow lone tracks-
veering with precision...
to reveries of persian ore
SECOND EDITION OF WAYRA Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nette OnClaud
Written: August 13, 2019
HER EAGERNESS TO SPEAK
ENCOURAGES HIM
TO PURSUIT HER
WHAT WE LACK IN LONGEVITY
MIGHT WE GAIN FROM TRUST
THAT THESE TOGETHERS ARE THE
DOORSTEP FOR OUR TOMORROWS
MIGHT I SOW MY SEEDS
AMONG THESE CRUMBLING STONES
THAT THEY SHALL GROW AND BE NUTRIMENT
FOR OUR TOMORROWS
Love fires one’s soul
Love
Lord
No way!
am I a
pessimist,
a realist,is what
I say-
I am
not an ass,
donkey maybe
definitely,male not
a lass-
I talk
very slow,
but this I know
fresh sweet carrots help my
words flow-
slowly
one by one,
this pleasing drawl
holds all my many fans,
in thrall
Brian Strand
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