"Am not a gem; again, you aren't right,"
This you firmly declared one night.
"I may want a diamond, but can't agree,
Nothing on earth can represent me."
Sorry, but could you be the north star,
The sky's brightest from afar?
Perhaps, a glorious moonbeam
Guiding an itinerant dream.
Or, could you be the mellow sun
Chased by dusk, forever on the run?
Or, the clouds adrift in a billow,
Hugging an old man's furrow?
Might you be the gentle April rain
Gushing to soothe my hopeless pain?
Prolly a cosmic glow from distant past -
Here to take me home, at last.
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