Flowers on porcelain, a vessel, blemished but beauteous stillI see what was in your heart when notions picked and given meant...
threaded flowers, gilded opulence, views of loving...
and more and more, a flower sets many a passion driven...
as my table rests, faded and crumbling...and fading and crumbling...
I see time pass...as clock case awaiting, awaiting it's time...
and a mother waiting and awaiting..in a gilded moment she listens...
'till time spent is moved on...to gardens and flowers and a gilded past...
a day in a life...Ok, so I played yesterday...in this biz it's an everyday chore, I'm sorry, but it is. I found great stuff, but so much more if only the coffers would've opened just a little more...argh...so now I go play, rewiring and buffing, as Sister's open house is around the corner and all must be perfect...you're coming right...?
