I entered Grande parlour of elegance where is placed bronze statue unique
Beside wide patio glass-paneled doors. “Shipped from Italy,” her Owner’s critique
Stepping closer, my curious nature sees child’s form, perhaps five, plus one
Clad poor, feet bare, head downcast. Clasps round vessel empty of duties undone
Illusions of her Artist haunt me. Why brown metal a child colored so?
Her innocence tainted, darkened, bleak. Why not a face pearled, soft cameo?
I peer in her eyes hallowed, countenance sad. She stands across from me
Near smoothed, bronze dolphin cast in glass, ****** from frothed waves sea
I think merrily, “You live where sea creatures play, power driven, dive ocean deep
Squeal with delight, let’s ride aquatic prince of Atlantic who does not sleep!
Or, “Do you hope to soar to third heaven, where bronze eagle behind you can fly?
Moon shadows beckon us to jewel stars on veiled, velvet blackened sky”
Or, “ Could I offer you a melon-porcelain rose? Fragrance perfume fills room you’re in
Petals never fade. Would you wear garlands on small feet, frail hands, brown hair so thin?”
“Angelina, come, listen to night sounds! Leave tasks mundane for a time
Frogs creak, leap high, jump gleefully, come to soft sand dunes we’ll climb!
Will you ride wail winds of tempest, hurricane water crash smooth sand?
Just beneath your window safe most days, but hurls destruction on demand!
Does music of your Owner excite you? Tunes, ballads, songs, new and old?
Melodies you never knew where you grew, stories of love you untold
Instruments: string, ebony, ivory keys, soothe soul, lift spirits high
Loud drums beat march jubilant. Music to laugh with, music to cry”
My mind stills. Angelina becomes bronze again, dress of white linen gone homespun
My imaginations for her happiness for a moment quiets, our fantasies clearly undone
This is why your Artist formed you, so mankind could see in your face
Divine hands help mold bronze your form, your simplicity man must embrace
Ill leave grande parlour of elegance from Angelina, bronze statue unique
Not Italian, but universal child-alloy. Words unsaid, so loud does she speak!
Of an Artist inspired to fire her. Of a Buyer perceptive to see
A child in need of needs to fulfill throughout life of man’s history
Child’s image, thin hair, poorly clad, feet bare. Rich in lessons clearly taught
By Master-Artist is Angelina, little teacher. Forget her not
“Angelina, did you give water to the thirsty? Was bread given away all you had?
Coarse shawl you don’t wear, did it cover an old friend? Did you visit prison comforting Dad?
In small village, do you care-give Mother often sick, rush on your hurried little feet?
Do you invite another child like you to humble hut on Lonely Street?”
Reminds me, words of Scripture, Master Teacher, Jesus said
“I was thirsty and drink you provided. I was hungry you gave meat and bread
As stranger you took Me in your place, naked you clothed Me poor alone
Sheltered Me, tattered and torn, lonely, no place to call home”
“I was sick, Jesus said, “You visited. To My prison cell you came
Downcast, forsaken,” He says, “ Angelina do you know My name?”
Lord send me Your naked, Your hungry, Strangers many in thirst
Sick in pain, prisoners behind walls, lonely, unloved at worst
Teach us to live Your words, like You help us to be
“In as much as You do to these,” Jesus said, :My brethren you do unto Me.”
A poem about a little bronze statue girl by Imelda Dickinson www.ImeldaDickinson.com
