Carving a flower
in pale green aventurine
took time
borrowed from the sun
by the craftsman.

I can feel every petal and ridge
in the stone. Chilly to the touch,
a palm-full of beauty to the eyes.
I’m holding perfection,
co-authored by nature and man.
"You need to hang it," I tell myself.

I knew a wire-wrapper named Rose
who could make a loop to dangle chains.

Her eyes narrowed to the task,
Rose twists her magic pliers,
winding the wire into a bale on top.
Any type of ribbon could fit
in this opening of adventure.

It should be worn!  By whom?
Not by me, the don't wanna-be gem dealer.

                          ***

At a busy trade show in Coeur d’Alene
a thirty-ish blonde, dressed with a flourish
trickling silver jewelry and true smiles.

She inhales the stone flower
squeals in approval. "I’ll be back,"
she promises. Only I knew
she might not be.

An hour later she does come back
and buys my aventurine rose.
I’d miss it, but I knew
she’d look stunning in it.
 

© Copyright Kathy Kopp 2008