The Ice Sculptor
He Sculpted her from, a block of ice
and he had an image, drawn down, it twice
a million ice pleats, in her dress, that glowed
he must carve it slow, must carve it slowwwwww
and the light behind her, showed no imperfect flaws
so he sculpt her more, scattered shards, fell to the floor
and he carved her bodice, of frozen plumes
to mimic feathers, that appeared to move
so up and down, frozen , round and round
and just like Artic water, but it had no sound
and strings of ice beads, from her shoulders edge
her covered garment, the strands did blend
not once , imagination , did ever wavering
though her ice cold eyes, had splintered shavings
so he kept stepping back, to view , his work of Art
sublimation decor, this woman, would never part
but he took too long , in this Art, admired
for now it melted, for time makes , ice,
....so very tired.
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