The Fiftieth Poem

This is where we lose it . . .

Large and Tiny, Large and Tiny

Beware all large and tiny creatures,

from those that make gunk that dries in the eyes,

all night, like nature's cosmetic features,

to those that spawn one-that-got-away lies,

for this poem makes the fiftieth one

I've torn from the living rock of ages:

each weighs on my mind as many a ton

sprinkled like grains of sand 'cross these pages.

And that's the end. Nothing more. Bye.