Mark Heathcote

Gold Star - 18,877 Points (22/03/66 / Manchester)

Rounded - Poem by Mark Heathcote

To make a pebble rounded
It has to be crushed
Pounded and carved
There is nothing tender
About it, it must be
Tipped on its head
Up-ended out of bed
Turned in every which-way
It doesn't want to go...
Some may think it cruelty,
But others shall behold it?
Behold its beauty, logically
Knowing it’s as rounded-
As anything - and possibly
It will roll with all the punches
Of this world until the next
Their return to the sediment
The bedrock of home!

Comments about Rounded by Mark Heathcote

  • Sranisha Francis (9/18/2015 4:58:00 PM)

    Turned in every which-way
    It doesn't want to go..

    Yes, it remains in the heart.
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, June 20, 2013

Poem Edited: Saturday, June 22, 2013

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