Panning Prospectus
He is an old pan man and knows how to pan
Finding gold is easy, the tricky one is diamond
A diamond in the rough is a crude old stone
But the one he would polish would be his own.
So the pan man saw many a bauble, fine gems
Worn by the great and by the not great at all
Polished personalities without character's diadems
He watched them like leaves turn gold and fall.
Then from innate hunger of a lonely eye, he saw
A woman worn hard by the ghetto's bitter law
And yet her speech was full of grace, and dreams
Were bubbles in the churn of frolicking streams
But heart unbroken did not cease to hope, she
Seemed a common stone to jewelers greedy eyes
But he knew she was a diamond in the rough, he
Knew this was the moment to which he would rise
He courted her like a lady, for a lady she ever was
She was the honeycomb and he the bee that buzz
From flower to flower bring nectar to her sweet cell
His diamond in the rough that by the river dwell.
Then when his love had polished her to a finish
The pollen fattened chrysalis suddenly was still
And right before gawking eyes deformity vanish
And a diamond back butterfly fluttered in the thrill.
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