Fantasies Intersecting [rev] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

And this boudoir is my work station - white &
pink lace o’er formal office chairs, dishcloths
and a box with pink bandana lifting computer
high; bunched flowers smiling in pink, purple
& cerise, books & papers filling extra spaces,
& me, a stand-up translator wiggling my toes

Incarcerated with my tables, my colleagues all
talking – animated - to the accompaniment of
Mantovani’s Blue Tango - with my head’s little
alien dancing with Death, an Anthropomorphic
Personification of physical life’s end and freed
consciousness continuing in new dimensions

Without a body to hold it down; a pink fedora
on my hat-stand, white net & a rose-coloured
scarf - & Thokozile chides me worrying about
getting work done - I laugh, only thing I really
fear is my alien leaving me on a dream & my
having to face the tables alone, though

Every country’s table is another colour and it’s
fun to edit and correct, bitter coffee for energy,
making up reasons to be happy as per my best
guru’s instruction – fantasise, visualise; Saint-
Saëns, shimmering water piano caresses lead
to Chopin, Nocturne No.9, it might be clear to

Anyone: many fantasies are intersecting here,
my heart rests in Chopin’s satin & velvet notes
eyes delighted by shades of pink all around -&
Bach Suite No 31 leading my spirit peacefully,
mind immersed in the colourful tables & they
are smiling back at me…