A Ring Of Gold? Poem by David Taylor

He saw a glint in the insubstantial mist
as through the forest he walked with stick
with swirlings of the night of old
still resting on ivy covered boughs
as below he felt the frozen hardness
of the frosty present ground.

He stooped and from the ancient earth
picked up a ring of gold
still shining as it had when hewn from rock
and first melted in creations heat
to form what he did now, behold.

He knew that it had once been his
or liked to think so in the mist
perhaps in another life
long, long before the ancients did
'twas then he had, this golden ring.

He placed it in his jacket pocket
and continued on his carefree stroll
immersed in reveries most fine
full of joy, admiring natures misty morn
that had been lit up by the dawn.

On reaching home he remembered well
that golden ring, glinting in the swirl
of a misty dreaming world
but it had gone, no longer there
perhaps his pocket had a tear?

Years later, on a similar morn
he walked at peace just after dawn
and remembered what he'd found
when past he'd walked that frosty ground
and there beneath a tree
a shining, aged man, sat quietly.

As he approached the man stirred not
but there, lying next to him, was that golden ring
Excited he explained how this lost treasure
had before bestowed such bliss
the time this ring he had found
and, for certain, known was his.

The old man shining, still
softly spoke and said
That ring of gold you cannot keep
or its full glory ever know
But stay a while with it here and now
until you feel you want to go.