Daughter has taken to pottery
Throwing muddy clay upon a spinning wheel
Moulding it with her fair hands
Until she forms bowl, pitcher or vase
It takes some time to get the knack
Eventually trying again and again
Establishes a rhythm
To form pot and smears on face
Gradually she likes the work
Not dilly dallying to make her own way
There's no heavy heart or strain
Happy, bouncing home, pots in case
She's passed the test in tutors eyes
Around the house we have flower pots galore
Dishes and other things
Now need shelves in every place!
Image found at www.potters-wheel-girl.jpg
Moral of the story: There IS such a thing as there being too much of a good thing--in this case, pots.
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