Sweet Do Nothing
Nymphs float lazily in the still water of the fountain
Frog less lily pads found in their beds. There is silence
In the garden, a sleepy calm passing through everything.
Above the rimmed water, lips of fish speak nothing evil,
Nothing pure trickles from the mouth of the mosaic.
The girl, her back to mouth and lips, is none the wiser.
Her eyes smile, as she lay her head down among the wolves
Their pelts a heady mixture of honey and vinegar in the garden
Half- verdant, golden brilliance. The sun watches her as she gazes,
Calmly and sweet in the garden on top of mustard and green.
Swathed in peaches and mangoes. Tired from too much play.
On the ground in front of her lay dead peacock feathers.
The rushes wait behind the marble ring, a silent chorus.
The finale is coming. They wait for her eyes to close,
Shutting off the princess' glory fro garden 'round.
Copyright © Britt Walker