there were maggots in the wood
that swarmed and crawled as maggots should
bark beetle and grey wood-louse
that'd made in beam their home and house

around that wood so rotten fair
was gilt and gold of glint and glare
that onlooker could only stare
and to his friends so declare:

'beauteous is yonder beam
of gold and auburn sunshine gleam'
for little did he know or dream
of rottenness that vermin teem'd

but hidden 'hind that wood o' canker
was wood so solid as steel of anchor
it had but no coat veneer
looked quite drab and dry and drear

no paint nor precious metal
did hide its strong 'n sturdy fettle
its pure wooden essence
provided its inner luminescence

so when next you spy the gentle bow,
the urbane polish and sweet 'hello',
don't be fooled to say 'wow',
not all is good that bears a glow.

manners maketh not a man,
though they may add to pleasantness,
inside can lie a trashing-can
though outside all is eloquence

it's the acts 'n speech 'n honesty
that make a true man's worth,
they give the soul its modesty,
the true gold on this earth.