Mild Theyme I

an anagram tribute

I don’t know what was in your pocket when you found me during your daily routine. Perhaps my companions were breath mints, spare change, or keys?

One thing I’m sure of, I joined other rocks you had come across on your travels.

I was the piece of gravel in your shoe that was so irritating, you had to remove your shoe.

You could have tossed me aside, but you didn’t. You placed me with the other stones occupying the pant’s pocket of a gentleman’s suit.

The amicable friction polished my sharp edges and though I never attained a sheen, I was quirky enough for commentary.

I imagine you going home after a pleasant stroll to empty your pockets on the beside table and examining each of your finds.

The next morning, you gave us a bath and a good scrub with an old toothbrush. Then lined us all up to see to see what morning light would reveal.

Which one of us would join you on your next outing? Oh, let it be me. Let it be me.

And then that didn’t matter as much. We joined the collection in your back garden and knew we were all treasures.