The glory of a rock as sure as this,
Compels my weary heart to make a home,
For thrashing waves are muzzled at the crash,
The fiercest winds fall limp upon the stone,
And so in pleased sight of Jealousy,
My heart has found true home,
And so in burning gaze of Loyalty,
My feet shall rest alone.

Sitting on a problem till I hear it crack,
Patient hatch to something daring yet,
Small but firming up to strength,
Blossoms into something quite convincing.

You can have the rice tomorrow,
Leftovers that you forever borrow,
Fridged today and gone the next,
To fuel you as you craft plain text.