Luck Poem by Richard Jarboe

Luck, you're like the moon
Your face changes later than soon.
You soothe like a lover on ice
With loaded dice.

Your sparkling face of spring
Turns cold blue by winter
It seems like a natural thing
But where do you go from there?

Life here on the merry-go-round,
Can lead to the sweetest rose,
But what comes next on the merry-go-round,
Scientifically, nobody knows.

My heart is heavy
Like a foundation of stone,
But you know as well as I,
Fortune is a honeycomb.