God and I

Clay Master

You made Your pottery
Black, white, yellow, brown or red
You made them dark, light or in between
You made them plain
Floral or sophisticated and clean
You thought they were
Perfect in Your eyes
Took them to the market
For the lucky buyer to own

They took them home
With joy and pride
They felt grateful as long
As the pottery served it's
Purpose
Looking delicate and admirable
In the eyes of the others
Causing envy and admiration for the owner's taste
The owner's pride it served

Years on they wore out
With age
Cracks from falling and
Domestic use
The owners disappointed
They store them away
Wished they never had them
Replaced them with new favourites
But in Your eyes Your pottery was perfect beyond imagination

You made me black and dark
Voluptuous and beautiful
Loud and infectious
Full of dreams and slightly deluded
Resilient yet fragile
Never the favourite but
In Your eyes I could not be more perfect