Juniper Trees

    Sitting as Buddha on a chocolate juniper
    - the theme of madness
    thirty cinnamon centres
    Ophelia squares;
    Brunelleschi floating down a fallen river
    on nougats, perhaps onyx pears.
    The sleek eyes of a cat stare floodlit topaz,
    ocelot rings round her burning mask.

    And sipping dry wine
    Beaujolais, decantered Anjou
    with iron doors not Ghiberti's fashioning but sweet meadows waving
    fresh, summer grass.

    And I at the garnet Buddha box -
    a cold winter day pledging choices
    pale, juniper tree
    the carnival log egging up thick cordial;
    the inlaid satin box hovering about silent, apple wedge
    a child's fantasy, orgeat or bordeaux,
    lactose fudge, bon appétit
    syrupy taste of Burgundy cherry.

    The axe ring of squirting tissue
    with drone of passing feet
    up finger stairs
    until the rustle of cloth
    crosses the turquoise box,
    clamours almond clusters
    into the courtyard cafe.