Song To a Teaset

I love each little plate of blue, and every cup and saucer, too; you have been mine for many years. I treasure you. I wept hot tears when once a child in careless play, who knew he should not come your way, knocked you across the table top. I held my breath but could not stop the clatter, shatter: it is true my heart has been broken same as you. But just because a plate is glued, the handle of a cup is, too, I do not love you less today: I love you more I would say. I value you more your fragile art: you are so like a broken heart. Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson