A Poem

[- Femme -]

"IT'S NOT WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU . . .

IT'S WHAT YOU DO WITH IT."

 

A POEM

 

There once was an oyster

Whose story I tell,

Who found that some sand

Had got into his shell.

 

It was only a grain,

But it gave him great pain.

For oysters have feelings

Although they're so plain.

 

Now, did he berate

The harsh workings of fate

That had brought him

To such a deplorable state?

 

Did he curse at the government,

Cry for election,

And claim that the sea should

Have given him protection?

 

"No," he said to himself

As he lay on a shell,

Since I cannot remove it,

I shall try to improve it.

 

Now the years have rolled around,

As the years always do,

And he came to his ultimate

Destiny . . . stew.

 

And the small grain of sand

That had bothered him so

Was a beautiful pearl

All richly aglow.

 

Now the tale has a moral,

For isn't it grand

What an oyster can do

With a morsel of sand?

 

What couldn't we do

If we'd only begin

With some of the things

That get under our skin.

 

Author unknown