New Gold Dream

Shine on, shine the lights on me,
for all of my life, so that much more I see.

Simple Minds, Glittering Prize

“A rarity”, “uncommon”
     to my head
     it was simple: years ago
there were mines, tin and copper,
     silver-lead,
     but colonial cargo—
flour, rice, tea and coffee,
     sugar—fed
     and clothed Castle Drogo.
So, when we set off prospecting
     I wasn’t expecting,
     not even suspecting,
     we’d find El-Dorado:

The auburn streets were paved
     with leaf in sheets
     of gilt, it seemed to me,
and all the trees were bathed
     in sovereign sheen:
     a silent symphony
for awe fuelled dreams amazed
      my heart with sheer
     autumnal alchemy.
And the sun seemed by its absence
     to heighten the sense,
     through colours intense,
     of longed for epiphany.

Leaning back, asleep
     on Teign’s slow tide,
     Midas sets mosaics in motion, shimmering.
Green and black beneath
     still waters glide:
     Castrol limned with molten metal, glimmering.
Seen in gaps between,
     reflections glimpsed
     of treasure drifts: a dragon’s hoardings, gleaming.
And look of sad joy in wondering eyes,
     mercurial amalgam of surprise
     in finding—and claiming—this glittering prize:
     an everyday miracle, glistening.