Meller Reflects
Erddig 1730
It’s a mirror. One of many
in which the master admires
his wig, his class, his taste
for the good life of a bachelor.
In the Saloon, a pair of sconces
with their gilt gesso frames
and glass candle branches,
a Belchier silvered table
topped with mirror glass;
the house grows in opulence
under his meticulous gaze.
His vanity is everywhere
dazzling his failing sight
and our expectations.
There is no Alice to pursue
through glass, only the hope
of reeling back a precious past.
We look into his mirrors.
The undead stand behind us
but we cannot see them.
Great images, Martin. I’d be tempted to rearrange the last two lines so that ‘undead’ becomes the last word – it’s a much harder sound to end on.
Resist the temptation!
I agree with Robbie!! I particularly like the first stanza.