glass windows
crystal panes
quite mesmerized am I
colored parts
crimson shards
I wish to have you for my eyes
womanly arch above my head
your shapes are all that I have bled
my story starts like your creation
there was a time when all you were
was magnificent idea
in the mind of a man
a quiet plan unwelcome in the land
a time when you were a naked chaos
trampled by cattle
the dust watched your birth
you rose screaming from earth
men cursed while they worked
a torture
an eyesore
with potential at best
Barren poles for arms
Slabs of marble legs
when your beauty arrived
all were surprised
and verified the validity
of your maker's pride
his blood, your paint
his teeth become your enameled wall
the iris of his eyes, your windows
his mind the crowning dome
his life the mascara of your shadows
the bones are at rest now
no one pounds out their song
on the old wintry walls
and the days are long
the wounds shown are old
long out of style
you will soon recover from man's victory
and slip back into old ways
for from dust you were taken
I set out to write a simple one about my feelings . . .