A lump of clay---formless, shapeless
Devoid of any loveliness, To darkened eyes no usefulness In this muddy, miry mess; The Potter has a different view He sees beyond this 'blob of goo' Knows what it can be made into-- A special work He loves to do. He fashions it with utmost care Into a vessel rich and rare A work unique without compare Fit for King and Kingdom's Heir. Each handmade work of art now stands As testament to skillful hands Which fashioned into something grand A lump of clay once worthless, damned.
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August 2018
Hi all,
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