Treasured Doll

Mother's Treasured Doll

Mother bought a porcelain doll,

A cute pretty thing in a case,

And carried it from the mall

And told us to note the date.

It was a beauty alright

With dark curly hair

Tied into twin ponytail

With white and red ribbons.

Enchanting us daily,

By her looks,

There she stands encased

On top of our fridge.

Her brown eyes beam

From behind long black lashes,

And she has permanently surrendered

To the smile on her lips.

Her lacy dress flows down

Both arms to the wrists,

Covering up her knee

Yet exposing shorts underneath.

Her legs and feet

Are rooted to a green platform,

And forever she remains still

in her white socks and shoes.

A 'Chapel of Angels' beside her stands

With a Christmas tree before it,

Something she cannot worship in

Being more than twice its size.

So this precious collectible

Sits aging without a playmate,

Untouched as Midas gold,

And awaits the day of transfer

To mother's first granddaughter.

© Frances A. Hagan 2013.