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Gems

A poem about the concept of pretty things.

By Allyson HowellPublished about a year ago Updated about a year ago 1 min read
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Gems
Photo by Tahlia Doyle on Unsplash

Gems seem to be representative of something rare.

Hidden deep below the surface of the Earth,

under the grass,

beneath the warm sun,

gems remain to be found by a hard worker,

someone passionate enough to find these hidden treasures.

Gems come in all sorts of varieties.

All kinds of different colors,

all kinds of different shapes,

all kinds of different sizes,

and simply just all kinds.

The most sensitive of eyes may stare in admiration

at the glistening beauty of these crystals.

Reflecting the light that shines on them in a mystical array of colors,

the beauty of a gem is hardly describable.

And then,

once these stunning gems are discovered,

we take them into the daylight with us.

It is not a catastrophe to take them home,

and,

perhaps,

loving these beautiful jewels is something we should never stop.

Gems are some miracle that we hold in our hands.

It must be the reason why

gems seem to be representative of something rare.

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surreal poetrynature poetry
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About the Creator

Allyson Howell

My name is Allyson Howell and I write about business, fiction, and everything related. I post monthly updates on the business side of my life, fiction, free verse poetry, and more.

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