Poetry

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With much help, admittedly,
one very elusive goal
went finally and giddily
one day from being a thorn
buried in my side
to a feather waving in my cap.
Shall we celebrate the feather
for a day then
and be done with it?
Wait a minute!
Shall I forget about it now
and let it fade,
and commit it to oblivion?
No! For every gnawing day
I suffered the oppression
of the thorn and the ache
in my side, let us now
enjoy the elation and sweet
relief of the feather.
For every day
and then some.....

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