The Bowl ©
By Lady J
10.25.08
I stared at the bowl
Like it had a fortune to tell
Ceramic and cold
bleeding pastel
Mint and green and odd with shape
Light offers a dare
my eyes match the shade
Sit it in the middle
The heart of this wood
Why fill it with something
when it is already good
Trysts for fruit and sweets and need
But really bare is plenty good enough for me
And while conversation circles round and round
The rim feeds on what we have already found
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