The One That Got Away Poem by Ollie Slaney

From what great mountain were you carved? What stone
So precious, chiselled down, did see you made?
I wonder at which wondrous world could hone,
Which atoms could define your pastel shade.
And what a craftsman, ever could conceive,
From something dull and crude as rock, your face?
And such a face! I cannot quite believe
The beauty fashioned from a thing so base.
No sculpture, this was not some piece of art,
Not cut, but borne of heart and mind and flesh.
This gentle rosy clay did move apart!
And smile a little ray of tenderness.

This ended her silent soliloquy,
And so she walked away, in symmetry.