Like ancient bespectacled eyes
Were the two wide windows
Filtering emerald-flecked light
In the room cooled by ash trees
And while fragrant women in summer skirts
Spoke of truth and art
They did not see how light began to sing.

First, chiselled lightening struck
From throats of brilliant jewels
To crash on walls awash with leaf-green shadow
Then lustrous woad and lemon streaks
Glistened and rippled from vases and bowls
As hot bronze oozed from candlesticks
And tinkling china tea cups filled.

All afternoon while tides of laughing chatter
Washed on a distant shore
I watched like a listening shell
Sunk in silky cushions
Drinking light that dripped from every source
And spilled as if from secret limitless wells
Ladled in drenching draughts
To quietly quench and quell all thirsts
Till soaked flesh glowed and sang.

So the molten gold was unspooled
From the honey jar
And metallic glints
Jangled from necklaces and rings
While pools of polished rosewood
Unlocked their precious light.