Period dreams
Of parlour scenes,
Of unseen teams of seams,
Of ruffles, tucks, and pleats,
And buffed beeswax scent.
Ceiling traces chandelier shadows
Of sweeping curlicue swirls.
‘Neath Corinthian cornice,
Spiralling spires sneak
Up Lincrusta frieze,
Silent sentinel to
Crackle-popping hearth’s
Radiance, dancing
Upon glazed sage tiles, landscapes,
and portraits, hung high and low.
Either side, old-gold-braid-framed moss velvet wingbacks slouch;
‘Twixt them purple paisley poufs pout.
Candelabra twirling fronds furl,
Atop antique raspberry damask swathed mantel.
Eternally Diana hunts above dado,
Reflected in gilt encased overmantel.
Behind the bullion-fringed ivory brocade chaise,
Fenestra layered by blinds and voile,
Interlined Sanderson rose chintz drapes snuggle beneath
Shrugging swags into tails.
Against north’s icy past.
Dark oak polished parquet
Washed by apricitic ruby, emerald, amber lights
Borders muted-toned chinoiserie rug.
Panelled portal: a glimpse of
Hands-‘n’-knees scrubbed,
Geometric Victorian-tiled moiré-striped hall,
Echoes heaven’s strain of “Twist again like we did last Summer”.
