The Mother Of A Pearl Poem by James McLain

The fetching hand that reaches firmly down beneath,
Soft tounges that wrapped around to speak about it's size.
And the many colored layers made from every single drop,
On top that's white to all thats in the shape of each a tear.
With each string of pearls each knotted shut the gate,
He shuddered with her gift, that she trembled to possess.
Each night down deep below, above the windy earth,
She lured up from the depths an eager - willing giving host.