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Turquoise paper patterns in mosaics on the wall Fountains spilling liquid glass into their shallow pools Open leaded windows with cut rose marble sills Scarlet woven rugs of wool down hollow echo halls Mint green air in the atrium Honeysuckle vines entwined Scent of the earth upon the skin is inevitable and defined Hush is the house and hush is the land the hedges, an unconquerable maze Thorns harden roses of antique descent in crater shaped pots made of clay Steps descend amethyst with granite black veins Straight to the aqua sea Under the cover of tree limb tunnels Steeped in old secrecy Mingled with shells are tiles sand polished and spit to the walloping wind Old piano blanket on the flattest of rocks, picnic about to begin Journal, burnt leather, blowing wide open for the circling birds to read Emotions of magnitude, shy from their solitude, flood to the page and are freed.