A Vase At The Pottery Poem by nimal dunuhinga
A Vase At The Pottery
The potter's daughter; like her father's craftsmanship
very beautiful to her *pinafore dress and the pigtails.
He sniffs when I ring the bicycle bell
during my routine delivery of their daily bread.
He knows my boss well; the pot bellied baker
and they are good drinking partners.
Baker's son goes to a high school
and very smarter than me.
Oh! I am an orphan who sleeps on a sooty mat
near the oven.
But she likes me very much
and I gave her a birthday present a stealing bun.
Postscript
*Because of her pinafore dress and the pigtails
she was attracted to me (on her school days)
and still struggle in life.
Dedication to the wild flowers whatever blossom & deteriorate
mysteriously in the wilderness.
A nostalgic write about young love written with a graceful pen and a distinctive smile that is pure Nimal. Always a joy to read your work, good friend. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
a homey feel to this poem nimal! leaves one feeling fresh, and natural. lovely work! love starr xxx
A story /poem that leaves it's readers with a wholesome feel in the hearts Brilliant Love duncan X
As usual, my friend, and outstanding piece. I read your postings and I feel a joy, not unlike the feeling one gets when they see a loved one. This is your usual standard of craftsmanship with that sly tinge of humour, wich is there but is never the reason for the poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:18:23 PM # 1.0.0.1119
This is a small gem of a poem. It would be difficult not to like this boy who makes the best of a very hard life. Lovely work, Nimal. Regards, Sandra