Once upon a time, a reticent raconteur

encountered a professional flâneur;

the former asked the latter if a point

lay hidden in his picaresque existence,

at which our wanderer took no offense, 

but simply said: "At least my path

I respect; I search-find-lose,

while you swell with tales yet choose

to never burst, even though you know

that in a sea of everyday shells, 

stories are the North Star pearls."