Avalon’s magic was all around

an interlude of magic
in Avalon perhaps
in a tiny changing room
amongst all of those wraps
once clad in studs and leggings
and hair of sable strand
with boughs of cherry blossom
and gold and silver sand

of sentient persuasion
a soft heart in repose
ankle boots and laces
a kind of fragrant rose
the place was decked in fineries
clothes of every hue
lace and mesh and cotton mist
and of course that great bamboo

fair traded and organic
just beautiful to see
sweet Italian petals
and a blush of delicacy
one after another the dresses
she did try
Mimosa Mirage transformations
and a sea goddess, so shy

shell like pink embroidery
matched oceans with the sky
each twirl was like a warm mistral
that swept into each eye
brushing me with blessings
almost from the start
that smile she wore most of the day
it clearly stole my heart

a night and day creation
saturns rings on fire
those heavy pink and purple coats
random with desire
a coat of many colours
a visionary display
nomadic in its influence
so beautiful I’d say

a host of pretty garlands
each piece the goddess wore
more beautiful more spectacular
than the one she’d worn before
in that little pokey changing room
the sweet Italian Rose
transformed into a goddess
and inside of me she grows

more beautiful each moment
more special every hour
her verve and inclination
her unbelievable power
of knowing how to wear each piece
and make it look sublime
a sweet art of attraction
a reaction to a rhyme

she has that special something
a uniqueness through and through
attracting all that special light
which nobody else can do
the colours of a rainbow
the crystal’s facets, she
processes it and shares it
within such mystery

everything she ever wears
is created from her heart
a belt a sash its visionary
I dont know where to start
and to see her in this little store in
Glastonbury I knew
she was in her element
for her light shone on me too

I never have been so happy
euphoric that was me
watching her delight in all she wore
she seemed so free
and easy so relaxed and swept
up in the dreams we spun
I loved her and I watched her laughing
as each she undone

and changed and tried and wore and loved
each special garment she
made her own yes she alone
knows exactly how to be
beautiful beyond words
graceful in repose
clearly she is sensational
as the magician knows