Intrinsic Gold Poem by Irene C S ClarkHogg

Intrinsic Gold.


The gold I own looks rather grand,
In necklace or bejewelled band
That adornes my finger when I dine.
It sparkles when I drink my wine.


Diamond, they say, a girl’s best friend,
Rubies, Peridot, gold, no end
To these baubles which, without thought
Of anything but beauty, bought.


Feelings invoked? Only my pride,
As I glitter at my husband’s side.


One item in my jewellery box
Stores of memories soon unlocks.
A locket on a slender chain,
Gold plated on metal with no name.


It’s companions may look down in scorn,
For the case is battered, badly worn.
But of more value than all I see,
My father’s last gift, with love, to me.