The Amber Chalice
The Amber ChaliceUpon the table sits a chalice, so fine and pure.
Its amber in color, designed flawless and sure.
Its purpose pointless and out of place.
In this room of satin and lace.
Its pedestal is on purpose, the reason, for show.
The contents its held, we may never know.
Dried roses adorn the base.
Broken pieces of a beautiful vase.
You behold the carefully placed array,
The story it tells, carries your mind away.
The last sip from a cup of desire.
The desperate act of hearts on fire.
Was it a night never again to be, thus remains only these memories.
A lonely chalice, and faded flowers to adorn.
A love was ended or a passion was born.
So stands the chalice, amber is its hue.
The story it tells, is meant only to you.
Linda R Reed
Its amber in color, designed flawless and sure.
Its purpose pointless and out of place.
In this room of satin and lace.
Its pedestal is on purpose, the reason, for show.
The contents its held, we may never know.
Dried roses adorn the base.
Broken pieces of a beautiful vase.
You behold the carefully placed array,
The story it tells, carries your mind away.
The last sip from a cup of desire.
The desperate act of hearts on fire.
Was it a night never again to be, thus remains only these memories.
A lonely chalice, and faded flowers to adorn.
A love was ended or a passion was born.
So stands the chalice, amber is its hue.
The story it tells, is meant only to you.
Linda R Reed
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