Poetry Blogs (Galatea)
On a hand-hewn pedestal
on milk-white face alight
eyes sparkle with a liquid flame.
Some build ivory towers,
these hands raw from driven labour,
on scratched cheeks a stricken eye
ransoms a sculpted orphan dream.
Across time and Middle Sea
another calloused hand chiselled;
laughter on a pine-white...
Wednesday 30th March 2011 9:53 am