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Astigmatism

Rating: 2.8
The Poet took his walking-stick
Of fine and polished ebony.
Set in the close-grained wood
Were quaint devices;
Patterns in ambers,
And in the clouded green of jades.
The top was smooth, yellow ivory,
And a tassel of tarnished gold
Hung by a faded cord from a hole
Pierced in the hard wood,
Circled with silver.
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COMMENTS
Kim Barney 29 July 2015
This is a fantastic poem with a wonderful message. I am surprised that no one has commented on it before!
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