If i were going to write poetry,
I would start with a stormy shore
and a lost ship, braving the waves
and a maiden in a tower
twenty yards from the shore,
worrying and debating about
something that matters little
of tea cups and coffee spoons
and lords and lordships and kingdoms

and when the ship is dashed upon the
rocks
and indeed it is a necessity,
for it could not be prevented.
The lady would come to her conclusion
and choose the silver spoon
with the inset emerald
and striking gold filigree.

and as the men swam for the shore
they would soon realize it was a foreign shore
those few that survived
gasping for air
their eyes burning from saltwater

they would land and thank their gods
for survival
for life
and the lady
from her tower twenty yards away would see these men
and the drowned men, the dead men
and she would reconsider
the emerald is too tacky
she would then decide on a simple golden spoon
inset with a peridot
with subtle silver filigree.