Consulting with my Sculptor
I critiqued His use of clay
To create my well carved features
In such a careful way:

My eyes are held in hollowed
Holes of hardened clay
Though the hue be not hallowed
They’re heavenly all the same.

This nose be a beautiful bridge
Baked by bronze- brown clay
Unbroken by blows for blood
Breeze brings sweet bouquets

Mighty words are measured
From a mouth made of clay
I mix at my leisure
My mouth is untamed

While my hips are not the widest
Of Wonders won with clay
While my waist is not the finest
Wand whittled for display

My frame is  flawless and free
Formed by flowing clay
Flimsy words find their way to me
And fall on futile way

As I am an amazing art piece
And I am allowed to say
I acknowledge that my Artist
Has a way with clay