I have painted them Georgian green,
The shelves and doors and back
Of the cabinet piano, now a secretaire.
A beautiful 18th century shade.
Of course there were no doors, before, only a screen
Of pleated silk, edged with braid
But that is long gone, now the doors are open wide,
Revealing the stringless, dull inside,
And I have placed upon the shelves objet d’art,
A cut glass vase positioned as to hide its crack,
Some Wedgewood items and a stoneware jar,
An old glass bottle, Napkin rings, a pair,
A Christening cup, a yew wood chamber stick,
A burr wood box, elevated on a brick,
Old tat really, nothing very rare.
And now I feel I need a longcase clock,
Pagoda topped, Chinoisserie, gold and black
To complete the junk shop scene.
So now I am returned to longing and searching,
No longer fulfilled and serene.
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