Poetry

Haiku

Trillions of tiny stars
telling stories
about their old flames.

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Mantle-piece

doll

My home is by the crystal bell
on the mantle-piece.
     Ornamental treasure,
     porcelain glass. 

I am taken from the shelf
when company comes,
     proud possession, passed
     from hand to hand.

I do nothing but smile,
as there is no other way
     my painted face,
     so pretty.

When the evening is finished,
and all have gone away
     I am returned to my
     solitary pedestal.