Porcelain Angel

If love were an angel of porcelain Careful would we be then. Her silken wings so fragile Would never touch harsh wind. If love were a glazed, glass sculpture From high, we would not let her fall, Tip and strike the ground to rupture Shattering into fragments small. If love were a cut glass angel Her protectors we would be, Not touched by friend or stranger Or flecked by other's greed. If a porcelain angel love were A painted tear upon her cheek, Her wings the shape of doves, So fragile, though not weak. For if we let her tumble Carelessly chip or cleave, If in love we should ever stumble We'll be afforded no reprieve.