This is the first of who knows how many rock poems I'll post here that I've written myself. This first one's about rocks. They're all about rocks. Also, they're all dedicated to Maud Pie.
Rocks.
Little treasures.
No hunt of any kind.
Yet joy is had upon their presence.
Presents not hard to find.
A diamond found amongst the sticks.
A metaphor for metamorphics.
And other kinds of rocks.
Rocks.
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