Porcelain's Prospect
Sitting on the shelf of the fine china cabinet
Behind glass doors in a room's desolate corner
Polished porcelain ponders its primary purpose
Free even from a smudge, but still feels worthless
No stains, scrapes or chips on its painted surface
Glazed over in rumination, a ceramic aberration
Watching the other dishes from its lofty display
With dismay, wondering if it will be used one day
Missing the conversations around the dinner table
Flirting with the forks and spooning with desert
Cleaned and towel-dried from some crumbs and dirt
Even envious of those broken against counters, smashing
Or thrown across the room in fits of folly or passion
But it still remains untouchable, a precious plate
Crafted by an artisan's hands, but lamenting its fate
All are afraid for its quality, too unique to imitate
It simply sits and reflects with eternal moments to muse
Yet all it really wants is to be handled and used
JMC
1/27/08
(c) 2008
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