Thistledown rain
soft-drifts on sun-strung spider silk
whispers
of harem screens, of patterning
sieving like softest snow.

Below the rippling glaze
that is a folly grown fluent
that is a lakeside roof on stilts
a silver canopy become portent,

                                                                    she leans
hooded by cold.

One silhouetted toe vines
in Liana echo
about one rose-hip calf:

one sybaritic sole
describes a petal, recumbent.

She does not know
her pensive form
has drawn worship from onlookers –

sighing shift of sonsy hip,
a symbiotic lover's kiss
of bolstering post.

Orchid-like, her droop of head -

                                                                    our eyes zoom in
bees
to her honey.