Ataraxia

Fountains

Ataraxia
Arabesqued damasks,
Pillows of liquid and clear eyes
Shining intense mirrors
Of green silvery recesses,
Tangled gardens,
Emerald water-works,
Old crumbled balaustrades
Where ivies and ferns
Fresco in the wind
Spiritual thrills of bluish-green contrasts.
My liquid and clear eyes
Grasp and welcome
The bright run-after
Of immanent fountains.
My eyes now and ever
Dilute in circles
Of yellow-ochre water and flora
And vanish off-shore
Brushing surfaces
Into threads and fibres
Of rainbow peacock tail.
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