Rivet

In the dim lit forge where sparks alight,
A rivet lies, modest yet staunch,
Its cylindrical form, a silent knight,
Ready to clinch the joint’s fierce lunge.

Head domed like a modest crown,
Shank straight, unyielding, true,
It passes through the plates—no frown—
Then bucks, expelling stubborn glue.

When hammered hot, the metal sighs,
Clinching tight, a bond of steel,
No whispered doubt, no creeping lies,
Just strength that time cannot repeal.

So sing, oh humble rivet, small,
You hold the world’s vast frame upright—
In bridge, in ship, in railway wall,
You are the quiet, steadfast light.