Take me home
I have been flung by the waves
A million times, brushed by them,
Washed by them, swirled by them
Until all my raw edges became smooth.
To onlookers, I became a thing of beauty,
To poets, a reference
And to children, a joy for ever.
I am a pebble,
Kiss me,
Touch me
And take me home
If you wish.
-- Kevin Lowery
The Clod and the Pebble
ReplyDelete"Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."
So sung a little Clod of Clay
Trodden with the cattle's feet,
But a Pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet:
"Love seeketh only self to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another's loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite."
-- William Blake