Great poetry is like a precious stone,
Great poetry is like a precious stone, Found mingled with mere rocks amid the gravel. Stunning in its own unique expression, Unmarred by wasted words and senseless babble. An agate in the sand along the shore, Washed by the tide, has secrets to reveal. And pearls hidden inside an oyster’s shell, Messages of great riches may conceal. Thousands of words may be written to rhyme; Each having its own story to impart. Each little tale, its message may convey In words that no doubt pour from someone's heart. But words alone do not a poem make. Neither the strength of feeling that's opined. The greatness of a poem is its song That lingers in the heart and in the mind. Lyrics which by universal applause, And with a bow and tipping of the hat, Haunt every man's soul, giving him pause. Causing to say, "I wish that I'd said that."
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