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 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: 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.