Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Polish My Silver

Bring to talents most prestigious
be it Baroque or religious

French Huguenot craftsmen bring
London's SoHo flotsam's ring

My wealth is displayed on platters
it's conspicuous and bold-it matters

to the cognoscenti's parties
to 18th century Gentry

Argent is my bank
it gives the chosen ones swank

Like mirrors on water
It reflects what you aught to

So bright the gleem
so bring to a sheen

Polish my silver
Polish my silver

Editing stage: 


I got tested once by wealth

my years of chimney sweep
lawnmower man
set aside

Polishing silverware an expensive
(did they know I used german milled
paste once to bring up aluminum cast
on speed machines?)

Sipped coffee they allowed me in
china cups
fresh ground
fresh roasted like the newspaper
folded and handed off at the backdoor
of the press

winter flakes falling
on the windscreen of the great idling beast

There is no greater pleasure then in the craftsmenship
of pure gestalt in works
poetry or the mind

Thank You

Hi Esker!

Thanks for your response...I'd watched a documentary on the BBC about how french silversmiths came to London and helped perfect the craft so that georgian merchants became the swankiest in the world. Something so ludicrous as eating off a silver platter with figures so finely have so much wealth...but it filters down to the lowliest classes who service them and ultimately want to be them!



author comment

I loved your poem I can see anything I could suggest to improve it ... loved that ending


love JC x

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Been so busy lately!

Thanks...I'd watched a program on the BBc about the french silversmiths coming to London...It just stuck in my mind...crafting poetry is a bit like working with the precious metal, don't you think?

Ells xx

author comment

I think your right there is nothing that makes me feel better than knowing I have written a killer poem, it used to give me great pleasure :)

love JC xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Not a wasted word... This has been a main point to literary thinking all our lives

Official 1SP

(c) No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.