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 apptit         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.