Millefiore Birthday

Young men break shadows and find the whorls of stars within
the girls traipse  their sulking skirts
one hand upon the brow like Sarah Bernhardt.
they want all things, and being composed of wants
they encircle the buttons of the flowers
cooing at the prismatic eyes of black eyed rubies
sapphires for cornflowers, dusty lace of achillea
they sing about detailed babies, houses, rings
whilst the men hold their  long kite-strings
kissing them discreetly and indiscreetly
on every kind of lip and lobe
until Harlequin laughs and Columbine
runs across the parterre, her satin puffball gown
soaked with mud and dew
she tears up the careful flowerbeds
and slings the flowers in the air
gold, violet, rose, every last tinted hue.


Veronica Aldous 2016 All Rights Reserved