(1) Chinese Porcelain. (New Version). (2) On The Dance Floor.

                 1.

    Chinese Porcelain.



Reflected in the mirror behind us
As we set up another selfie,
The collection of earthenware pots
Displayed on the highest shelf
Above the worktop in my kitchen,
Delicate Chinese porcelain
Placed next to Irish stoneware
Rough as the hills of Antrim.

And I wonder, as we peer at the photographs
Flashed up on the miniature screen
Held tentatively in your fingers,
That such a roughcast face as mine
Thumbed out of the clays of London
Does not seem an incongruous partner
To the gracefully sculpted contours
Of your refined Parisian beauty.

I turn and look up at the porcelain
That once seemed so perfect to me,
And note how the finest of glazes
Can be flecked with miniscule flaws,
And that an often praised figurine,
May in a moment seem awkward and ugly.

You stroke my face with deft fingers,
Elegant as a ballerinas.
Perhaps I should replace my collection
With artifacts of your choosing.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
October 19th. - 21st. - November 30th. 2015.
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                    2.

    On The Dance Floor.


Dressed to kill,
Stuck in a hive of strangers,
Waiting.

Legs
White as china clay
Shown to advantage.

Dress,
Black as a priests habit
Hiding nothing,

Only the top of a stocking,

Only the sting.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
19th. November 2015.