Seventeen times the charm of chapel chimes,
great glistening seas of coiling serpents
Bacchus dance in hissing waves
disturbed by her cream-soft foot in silver sandal
gliding the folksong gentleness
of television-morning and evening-gown-evening,
her harpsichord key unlocks the mystery of
The Emerald Ages when all hair was fair and
she – high priestess – whispered wise counsel to the
King of Seven Colours casting feathering
Christmaslight across stony hillsides of
youthful Autumn.

Pft! poem by Seven Up Partridge

Pft! illustration to read poem by Whale Song Partridge

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