Two Hippos

Two hippopotomi: why are they there,
gracing my mantlepiece, gathering dust?
One, made in Russia, I bought as a child;
one-and-ninepence, I seem to recall.
The other, much newer, is carved out of stone,
acquired as a friend for the first.

There's no rationale to explain their appeal
and, so small, they appear rather lost
on a mantelpiece built for Victorian clocks,
glass vases or brass candlesticks.
They are not realistic, not useful at all,
but they please me whenever I look.

And that's why they're there, my two hippopotomi,
gracing my mantlepiece, gathering dust.

poem © Celia Warren 2011