“Give your lady a stone
to make it a happy home” –
or so I heard,
from those “wise and matured”.

But my love was unsatisfied
and claimed umbrage for her pride,
because she wanted to dazzle
and said my stone looked frazzled.

So the lady departed,
leaving me broken-hearted
holding a stone with a legacy
greater than her love proved to be.

*This poem is a continuation of a project where I chose a color, and wrote a poem on the first three words that came to mind. In this case, they were a woman, a stone, a memory/fossil*

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