[Spindleshanks]

This is an oldie, too, but may fall across the line with a polish:

Spent, Stolen or Strayed


How desperately I miss it. Though the joy
it gave was often countered by the pain,
what I would give to hold that strange alloy
of precious gold and blemished brass again.
Though slightly tarnished with the vexing stain
that reckless inexperience impressed
upon it, how I hunger to regain
the prize that I so long ago possessed.

So often it's belatedly we vest
our assets with a worth beyond their cost;
we estimate the gifts with which we're blessed
too loosely till they are forever lost.

Lambasted with the rod of self-reproof,
how wretchedly I miss my vanished youth.

oOOo