Pot Dreams

Pot Dreams

I wished to be a tea-pot,

all colourful and round;

but worried when they tipped me

I'd break upon the ground.

Then I saw the other pots,

the ones that have a flower;

I wished I could have soil

and began to feel sour.

I didn't want a handle,

I wanted to be brown;

I'd have a little saucer

and petals as my crown.

Mary Richardson [e-mail]