The Alchemist's Apprentice - Poem by George Hinshaw
We almost found the elixir of life
(Actually, ours was closer to a beaker of bock),
And the philosopher's stone
(Well, maybe more like a pet rock).
We checked out the Garden of the Hesperides--
you know, those (Grimes?) golden apples,
Guarded by the dragon, Ladon?
But we found the answer in this:
"A word fitly spoken
Is like apples of gold."
A revelation, . . but can we peel it?
Some say we have discovered the tao of technology,
Some say we have conquered it!
Others say we have lit the candle of ambiguity . . .
So what else is new?
Comments about The Alchemist's Apprentice by George Hinshaw
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Read poems about / on: life
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye