by Andrew Peter Grant
Friday, January 24, 2003
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They brightened the infinite greys of skies
When they arrived in battalions of colour
At my afternoon door.
I took them into my home
And bathed them in a humble jar,
Where they budded warm smiles
Upon a chipping windowsill.
How they perfumed a miserable room
With assortments of emerald and gold! -
Washing scents of daytime
Into a dizzying moonlight above.
I admired the strange valleys
Of stalks and rigid greens
As they erected formally
To a morning Northern sun.
Peaks and towers of drenched blossoms
And swells of gentle snow-white! -
Prided a ritualistic sleep at night.
Today I'll drape my room in fruits and flowers -
Entwine their gracious arms into colourful dances of joy
As they embroider a once dead room
Into an oddity of savage blossoms!