My better half’s a painter:
I sculpt echoes against an encrypted palimpsest;
We live in a house of mirrors, 
star-strewn serpents’ scales refracting boughs & flowers;
redolent stars impressed in titian, fuschia, 
jonquil, crocus, columbine orange;
marauding freckles forever heard and heeded
amongst snug fireside chanties floating
soft and sweet as crackling incense,
signals dithering, dense as shoals of lurid krill,
a shoulder slanting casts in gasping reflections.