A Porcelain Doll
At the break of Dawn, she poses in place,
as a rising sun stains the night sky pink.
And my artistic hand begins to race,
sketching her features with charcoal and ink.
Ebony outlines, mesmerizing eyes,
as if she stepped from a fantasy dream.
And as cotton-candy clouds tint the skies,
gilded shafts of light make her aura gleam.
With her white face as featureless as smoke,
colored silks adorn this porcelain doll.
And as my muse guides my every brushstroke,
she wears mystery like a silken cloak.
A Japanese Geisha touts perfection;
nothing about her invites correction.
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