Gifts...

You bring me rose petals for my bed,
bergamot flowers to float in my bath,
you think that’s an easy way into my heart,
I’ll show you how difficult that can be.

I want you to bring me peacocks, to strut on my lawns,
I want a panther with an emerald collar, to walk the street,
a dinosaur’s footprint in rock, to hold in my hand,
a fierce green dragon’s breath to warm my face.
Give me dew from a buttercup to shed on my cheeks,
Bring a perfect blade of grass to press between my palms,
pour me a glass of nectar, to drink instead of wine,
a feather from a Lyre bird’s wing to stroke my face.
I want the first raindrop from a shower for my lips,
a shaft of moonlight to brighten my path in the dark,
stardust to sprinkle shining glitter where I walk at night,
a curve from a rainbow to colour the new day.
Fetch me an Arab mare to ride across the moors,
or a Pegasus, to fly me, shouting, to the sky.

Find me Caxton’s first book, so I can turn the pages,
Shakespeare’s first folio, to hold and gloat over,
the first scribblings of Donne, to learn his heart,
the manuscript of Byron’s poems, to know his mind.

Most of all, give me Eldorado, so I can scatter
It’s treasure over the hungry, desperate world.
Can you give me all of these? If not, do not apply.

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