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Mr. Potterer

Contributed by thorn on Wednesday, 21st March 2007 @ 07:01:24 AM in AEST
Topic: ChildrensPoetry

I passed by a potter once
His pottery reminded me much of my mother
Not that I would ever forget her, you see
She was breaht-takingly beautiful,
Yet ever so fragile

Her pictiure slept with me every night,
As did the stained glass windows
Of the church above my head

"Where is your mother, little one?"
The potter had asked
"She lives up in Heaven," I pointed
To the sky
The man looked at me sadly, but
I smiled
"It's okay, she's with daddy." I added
The potter nodded.
"I bet she's very happy to see you grow
so strong."
I frowned because I was not strong.
Jack always won when we played Tug-Of-War

The man finished and packed his things
"This is for you." He'd said and gave me
One of his pretty pots
"Oh, it's beautiful. Thank you."
"You're welcome...
Well, see you then"
"Yes. Goodbye Mr. Potterer." I'd said

COPYRIGHT 2007 THORN@YPDC

Author's Note: I can't get the layout right. No matter where I break the lines or start a new stanza, it just doesn't seem to come together right. Any suggestions?
This is my first visit back here since 2005. I haven't written poetry since! It's good to be back, though :D

Copyright © thorn ... [ 2007-03-21 07:01:24]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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