Riddle

[tectak]

This is my first poem, and it is a riddle to a mechanical locking device I designed on a blanket chest (I'm a woodworker). The answer is at the bottom if you can't figure it out.


Collected by thousands over long distances, treasured and cherished by all,
drooled on and slave to thousands more.
Fit for royalty, becoming chameleon through the seasons.
forced to transform in a prison cell, held under protection yet trampled upon.
Healer of wounds but triggering a fishhook of pain,
exposed to hives while lingering in the dark and the deep,
fear the ghost with the steel face that hides in light; dread the horror Borborygmus.
Subjected to the power of the black hole, emancipation merely exchanges one cage for another,
left imprisoned behind distorted sand, only to be sold into slavery again.

Hi David,
Though you picked a great method of expounding disconnected thoughts this form is not easily assimilated into the various genres which masquerade as serious poetry....any more than what you might find in a Chrismas Cracker. That is NOT to say that you failed to make the best of it but in this piece we are diving in to the "My first is in bottle but not in cork, my second in sparrow but not in stork....." area, and that is not good.
Gratuitous words like "Borborygmus" appear in poetry almost like fashion....this one is strangely popular at the moment and will remain so during the Christmas Feasting
I confess I am lost that the answer to a mechanical locking device should be honey....but hope and believe that it makes sense "in situ" so to speak.
I would venture that you do not need an excuse to write poetry (the riddle is a riddle is a riddle) so do not be concerned by the critics, including me, who may pounce on isolated efforts......just write another.
Best,
tectak
















Honey