Porcelain Story

Porcelain Story

Written for my daughter Miriam and inspired by her first alarm-clock–a little porcelain girl below a clock in an apple-tree, and her piggy bank (which was always empty!).

 

Beside a big old Apple tree
Within a pleasant dell,
There was a tiny house wherein
A piggy-bank did dwell;

And when that piggy-bank walked out
One fine bright sunny morn,
He saw a little porcelain girl
Pick flowers on the lawn;

In hat and blouse and shoes of pink
And pants of pastel blue,
She strolled amidst the clover trailing
Footprints in the dew;

With skin of polished ivory
As white as falling snow,
Her braided golden-ivy locks
O’er slender shoulders flowed;

And ocean-pools of deepest blue
That paled the morning sky,
Where dreams beyond the rainbow’s end
Behind those eyes did lie;

And as the piggy-bank approached
That China figurine,
He stopped and stared to see her lips
Of ripest cherry sheen;

For on those lips a simple smile
Of greeting there did glow,
While in her tiny china hand
A daisy did she hold;

“Do you have dreams?” her voice intoned
A kiss upon his ear,
Like stardust falling through the mist
Yet ringing true and clear;

Forlorn the piggy-bank did pause
And turn toward the sky,
“I do,” He whispered with a sigh
And yearning in his eye;

“I dream of hidden treasures lying
Buried in my hull,
I dream of being satisfied
I dream of being full”;

“I dream of being opened-up
To shouts of joy and glee,
Of happy children running to
The candy store with me”;

“Of spending all my hoarded jewels
On Mothers Day’s surprise,
And seeing well-loved mother with
A teardrop in her eye”;

“But I am just a piggy-bank,
An empty vault of clay,
And I can only dream upon
That happy rainy day”;

“For many are the rainy days
That I’ve seen come and go,
But ne’er a silver shilling for
To line those clouds with gold”;

“And vainly does the needy soul
Seek charity in me,
For empty do I e’er remain
A dry and lifeless sea”.

And through a sudden mistiness
That in his eyes did gleam,
He saw a porcelain teardrop fall
That from blue eyes did stream;

“Oh dearest little china girl
I beg you not to mourn,
For I will gladly empty be
To see your sorrows shorn!”

“O’ piggy-bank you’re wise and good
My sorrow’s for we two,
For I am lost and all alone
My life is empty too”;

“For I was made by loving hands
To love the march of time,
And care for my beloved clock
That in this apple chimed”;

“And as the roots of this old tree
Grow deep in to the ground,
So was the love by which my dearest
Clock to me was bound”;

“But then one gray and fateful day
A dreadful thunder cloud,
Did see me from the sky above
And in love’s spell was bound”;

“Impassioned he did beckon me
But I refused to go,
And in his rage a lighting bolt
Of fury he did throw”;

“And struck my dear beloved clock
A mortal sundering blow!
So now I have no time to love
And I must love lone;”

And as her heart at last became
Unburdened from her pain,
She turned her tear-swept eyes upon
The piggy-bank again;

“Oh piggy-bank why do we bide
Where torments never stop,
You with your sad emptiness
And I with none to love?”

“For I was made to give my love
And you were made to take,
Let’s put the past to rest and seek
For happiness in fate”;

“Stay with me now and I will fill
Your emptiness with love,
And both of us shall be fulfilled
Our purpose from above”;

And so forever they remained
A happy porcelain pair,
A piggy-bank filled to the brim,
A doll with love to spare;

And in that tiny house that stands
Beside the tree so old,
There’s ne’er a rainy day who’s cloud’s
Aren’t lined with streaks of gold.

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