Talisman and charm
Not in a box
but in a
globe of glass, blown beautifully
from sand
first then,
with care, that blackbird
perfecting
his rounded notes,
with harmony
from others
seren squeak
and a monotone whistler;
swifts for
the swoop, scything the sky
(which
should be blue of course, plus cirrus swirls).
The pool, aqua,
small ripples in a dance.
Lavender and
bee buzz, whirring hummingbird moth;
Pierre de
Ronsard rose
(for its
white to pink blush), scent of honeysuckle, red rose
entwined,
scrambling over the wall, pale stone warm
with crevices,
creatures: a lizard wriggling, the tree frog
(for he
quacks so loudly and his lime-bright green).
Pines,
preferably parasol for the south
the promise
of salt and sea, Mediterranean
but cypress
too, index upwards, Fingers of God.
Elderflower in
May, frothed like cream
or lavish
lacy cloth; geranium crushed pungent
basil most
certainly, and mint
poppies (for
they are survivors) brash, splash, staining the wheat fields red.
Put in
cornflowers too!
Some terracotta
tiles ridged on rooves
and last of
all, a finishing and a frame
blue on the
edge of the sky,
beloved mountains floating, like a dream.
All of it
sealed, saved in a globe of glass
hung where
it glows in the light
for talisman and charm,
memories held in a poem
against the
darkest day
2nd June 2012, Hounoux
