Our goal is to do a top-rate professional job on each piece we handle. We endeavor to make our work a joy to others, maybe even an inspiration, as exemplified in this poem written by one of our customers.
My Lady, bathe me in exotic oils as I
Cradle your things most precious.
Years pass like drops of water
But it is you and I who are chiseled, dear Lady.
Time attacks with a vengeance
Your face reflected in mine and mine in yours.
Napping and then you are gone.
White flowers encircled in black are hung as
Whisperers walk on sock feet.
I feast on memories,
Memories of candlelight dancing on my
Beveled glass and sparkling goblets
Lifted in joy.
Discarded and hidden away,
I pine for my Lady to come and run
Her hands over my blistered skin.
But itís the wood-elf whose gentle hands
Restore my beauty.
Carried into my new Ladyís home I see her
Uncharted face reflected in mine.
As another life cycle begins.
© Ruth Winchester Ware, Ph.D. Member of the North Carolina Poetry Society