Ceramic Cherub

An angel with a broken wing
is sitting on our window sill.
Ceramic cherub, white and pure,
what is it that you're waiting for?

Is there some fine celestial glue
to mend your wing, as good as new?
Or will it take a special prayer
to make your wings a matching pair?

Dear cherub, on the window sill,
defend us from the autumn chill.
And do what you are meant to do:
protect us when we're on the loo.

poem © Celia Warren 2011