Pearls of Wisdom

I have re-Posted this poem from Jacqui BB from YAHOO 360 friends space

thru Cheyanne and in it he wrote:-

So I am hosting Poetry Wednesday this week in Sue's absence.

Sort of seems appropriate that I offer up a poem of my own.

And I have been rather rattling these off on demand of late but I don't think that is going to work today so I went leafing through those journals I have mentioned before.

I didn't even find a date on this until the next to last page I filled

(only about a third but every page a poem).

It is 1976. In the last year I believe of my relationship with a man named Bruce.

The one with the Masters in English and all but thesis on Doctorate.

He hated that I learned I could write.

I was not with him for 19 years so I haven't a clue of just what specific incident I am referring to in this poem. Likely a fight with my brother.

Far too many to be specific.

But not knowing I do not think lessens the truth in this poem.

Observe if you will

No tell tale frown

Nothing up my sleeve

Just behind my mind

Where quietly I air the linen

Review my past like a color guard

Passing in Review just out of yours

So I can pass judgmentI now pull it out for you.

Notice, if you will, the tiny facets

The minute changes of light

As I turn this prism of personality

First one way then the next

You'd never guess

The festered sore this tiny gem has created.

But a tiny grain of sand like so many, you say?

A mere chip off the rock of sand

And well have I hidden itEven from myself

Stored under gauzy tissue of laughter and flippancy

Smoothed and polished and coated and re-coated

To be a pearl of wisdom.

But the wisdom, my friends,

is in observing it

Pulling back the tender tissue

And wiping clean the gem

Then with a hammer smashing it

To reveal the original stone

The tiniest nugget of golden truthA trifle you say?

Well, perhaps

Perhaps once and maybe soonB

ut for now I give you the one, the only(Don't we wish?)

THE Pea which kept a Princess awake

Under not one, not two, not even three

But nineteen, count them.

Nineteen years!

Yes, Sir, Folks.

A more expensive trifle you've never seen.

It has cost us dearly.

(c) J.Binford-Bell 1976

Many thanks to Jacqui BB & in appreciation to Cheyanne.