The Song of the Pot
I am a lucky little lump of North Dakota clay,
My heart is filled with gladness
And I sing a song all day,
For a potter found me worthy of his very finest ware,
And fashioned me upon his wheel
With tender loving care.
With the magic of his fingers gave me form and life and soul,
Transformed me from a shapeless clod
Into a flower bowl.
And as I hold within my arms a prairie rose bouquet
I bless the hand that made me
All from North Dakota clay.
Margaret Kelly Cable
University of North Dakota
* The Cable Years *