(because you - lonely dolls - are everywhere i look)


in tribute to all things petite,
pretty and sweet
this verse i offer and greet
in desire to replete

a portrait painted from truth
but imagined to soothe
for beauty, eternal in youth
loves pity, compassion, and ruth

i stumbled out of the saloon
an evening last june
and heard a distant mournful tune
under the dyad moon

my soul, though with wine i did douse
the song did arouse
i followed, a drunken louse
unto a cardboard house

and through the window to see
a doll before me
singing to the mirror was she -
was it a plea?

her room was all dresses and bows
for a doll needs her clothes
she leaned in to breathe from a rose
and stood on her tippy-toes

with a brush made of jade and pearl
she straightened her blonde curl
i saw the sad eyes of a girl
under teardrops, aswirl

she went to her canopied bed
and laid down her head
she picked up her sheep-doll and said
something with dread

though i was too drunk to make sense
i felt her essence
and turned to leave this pretense
for night, black and immense

i remember that singing doll
and her grievous call
as a little reminder to us all
whose sadness wasn't so small