The Oyster

There once was an oyster, Whose story I tell,

Who found that some sand, Had got into his shell.

It was only a grain, But it gave him great pain.

For oysters have feelings, Although they're so plain.

Now, did he berate, The harsh workings of fate

That had brought him, To such a deplorable state?

Did he curse at the government, Cry for election,

And claim that the sea should, Have given him protection?

No - he said to himself, As he lay on a shell,

Since I cannot remove it, I shall try to improve it.

Now the years have rolled around, As the years always do,

And he came to his ultimate Destiny - in the stew.

And the small grain of sand, That had bothered him so

Was a beautiful pearl, All richly aglow.

Now the tale has a moral, For isn't it grand

What an oyster can do, With a morsel of sand?

What couldn't we do, If we'd only begin

With some of the things, That get under our skin.