Sunday, 3 April 2016

[Poem] Chisel

The Maker kneads, shapes and chisels
With loving hands
Smiling at His handiwork, he lowers
His creation in to the world of men

She will have a smile that stirs the human heart
Her soft voice will please a tired ear
The ministrations of her gentle hands will provide succour-
Many shall rest in the shade of her heart

She is a fawn that dances
Lightly on the morning air,
She is the whale that rides the ocean of her dreams;
She is the dove that coos at the ramparts of the firmament,
She is gentle, soft, pliable and oh so vulnerable...

So they tell me...

Play with your dolls child
Deck yourself up in jewels and clothes
Keep yourself indoors - no muscles, no tan
I shall weave you tales of fairy lands
Where handsome lads shall pledge romance
Just sing and dance and look pretty

So they tell me...

 Kneaded, shaped, chiseled
A pliable mind and body 
At the cruel hands of Reality
Crumples,withers, wilts,
 Ironically doesn't have the guts
To school daughters into Independence

 Hope swoops in and scoops
Ferrying fools to Purgatory.

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