Rings Poem by bob barci

I wear rings on my fingers
for fun, show, dress.
Occasional rings
to keep a thought or memory
in the forefront.
Two are obviously fake.
Shiny glass – just for fun.
Dad’s high school ring –
also for fun and a remembrance of his youth.
My birthstone –
green and emerald – for May.
Two more of Dad’s
from his days in the Knights of Columbus.
His wedding band – from Mom –
a symbol of love.
A plain band
I don’t recall anymore where it came from.
Two are supposedly the real thing.
I don’t know for sure –
I never checked them out.
Rings on my fingers
worn mainly for
pleasure or sentiment.