Wednesday, 30 May 2012


You harbour within a crazy cornucopia,
Of burr walnut whirls, whipped into a frenzy
Of frames,
Featuring mercurial mirrors,
Darkly dappled,
And a plethora of peerless pier glasses,
A guilt of gilded girandoles,
Collectively, reflectively, 
Throwing back the much restricted light,
To illume a time, now out of sight,
When, with a surfeit of servants,
You were a community contained,
A curiosity cabinet of characters,
Carefully catalogued,
Courteously classified,
With the painstaking passion,
Of the Collector, unrestrained.

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