On a hand-hewn pedestal
on milk-white face alight
eyes sparkled with a liquid flame.
Some build ivory towers,
their hands raw from driven labour,
on scratched cheeks, a stricken eye
ransoms a sculpted orphan dream.
Across time and the Middle Sea
another calloused hand chiselled;
laughter on a pine-white face
resurrected an ailing heart.
Some can only imagine
what others have without trying;
when vicarious journeys fail,
reality's block they will assail.
© Frederick Kesner. All Rights Reserved.
drawing from both the stories of Pygmalion and Geppetto.