At Aranjuez

Flooded with sunlight
these pulsing fountains make rainbows
drift through spray, a tease of colour
and splash of dissolved jewellery,
so that
standing, here on small gravel,
the soft scatter of random drops
a sweet relief from heat-worn air,
we half expect to find the sevenfold palate
stained into our faces, skin,
our dazed and glittering hands.

D A Prince

If you have any comments on this poem, D. A. Prince would be pleased to hear from you.