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.