Freshwater Pearls

Freshwater pearls in a tricolor string.

Yes, I’m the girl he’s buying the ring for.

Pearls are the last thing you put on

and the first thing you take off.

Funny to think I’ll have a stone on my hand,

then come summer, a silver wedding band.

’Til then, I wear three colors of pearls on a string,

it’s hard to believe that steady girl is me.

I’ve never had nothing so nice before.

How nice, how very nice, just to be looked after.

My mom watches my wrist, the pearls, when I’m getting ready,

and whatever the look is in her eyes, I don’t know it.

“He’s a good one, Mom.” Then, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Through tears, “Well, who do you think prayed him into your life?”

Pearls lose their luster through contact with skin.

It’s best to store them in a silk pouch.