Am I having a late flowering?
On account of all that Chinese poetry
About maidens longing for absent lords
Or was it reading Dransfield today that did it?
He was so elegantly doomed
And no-one writes in such a courtly, wasted fashion
How wonderful it is to sing a song again
And if this is my late flowering
Fetch bowls and vases please,
Help me celebrate the blooms.
The petals are strewn here on the floor
And gather some frangipanis –
The tree outside my window is flowering too
Bring me the moon to add some atmosphere
And drape a thin veil of cloud across the sky
So that here, with heaven’s mandate,
The verses can be composed
As it was in the old days
When the masters painted their poems
And birds on the wing recited them
So let the late flowering continue
And may the clouds shroud the distant mountain
Bringing warm sweet rain to the forests;
Fetch some stardust to sprinkle across the scene,
Invoke the spirits of the past
And let the blossoms unfurl
This unexpected spring