The prompt today is to write a review poem - of a person, a place, an inanimate thing, whatever.
I'm using this prompt to write a poem that has been percolating in my mind now for a while on metaphorical matter I find quite fascinating: gold. Not only as a precious metal (which did you know has its origins in gamma rays and star explosions?) but in language - how many idioms there are about gold, most denoting preciousness and worth and value. And of course, a lot to do with love also, and personally in my case, a lot to do with a review (and closure) of a certain love.
Gold
You were gold, all gold.
Gilded golden boy wonder.
Gold like the sun, like a charm, good cheer.
First prize, precious, priceless,
beyond all other treasure.
Gold like a certainty, like a light.
Boy with a Midas touch: world
at once a glistening palace
for us to loot. Struck gold,
smiles that tumbled like coins,
your gaze the pure warm ochre
of high carat calibre feeling.
Before I knew it, I was rich.
And they were goldrush days -
hearts that whirled in a current
as we panned endless wonder,
keen prospectors
of a wealthy future.
Glimmer-filled fever.
Between us, a goldmine
of potential
worth its weight in bulk.
Then all of a sudden: bad alchemy,
bad luck. Time set to tarnish.
All that glittered became a cloud,
all that gold overwhelming.
Love reduced itself to currency,
quick sell to the highest bidder
as you minted a binding prop -
a promise to keep, a circlet,
a guarantee, gleam of truth
overlooked -
and sold me out.
Broke
the most golden of rules.
Worthless is a long way
to drop. I should have known
a heart of gold
would have a hard touch.
Now I wonder was it really
treasure I lost?
In the alluvial soil of memory -
gold ore nuggets of moments
shine clear, tears of the sun
abandoned in earth.
But if it was real gold -
how could you have so lightly
let it go? A question that weighs
heavy on me since.
More likely it was just
plain over-valued rock.
An eager digger's mistake
of gnarled pyrite - crystal aggregates
that glint deceit sharp as teeth,
errant imitation
of the real thing.
Fool's gold -
that took me in, wrung me out
for all I was worth.
Fool's gold, all of it, all of you,
all mine, deposited deep.
