scintillating flowers  closely cut
in hollow reeds,
a talent on show, a distant glow:
of green gold flickers on an animal wildness
of whiteness, as a prelude to virginity
uilleann pipes play softly
whosh! above a flight of swans,
naiads and nymphs cower
at this tawny hour, 
at a hymnal of infected poetry, a  primal fever
cradled in evocative text,
squeezing words into an enchanting blend,
of provocation and bold deception,
world without end..  

—

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