Fay Slimm.

MIRAGE.

Mirage.


As I caught the scent of crystalline 
charm I felt I must buy it.


Inside the shape
of blown-glass were imaginary forms
of curled serpentine convolutions. 
Paperweight spirals
snaked upward, black-lined core 
transformed writhing tendrils 
of scintillation from asp 
into fish then serpent then  bird.

Meandering talent
wrought sinuous kinks from wavering
images of silver-pearl frames, 
swirling forms revealed
nature in movement, a unique talent
coiled reptilian likeness 
by fluent changes in congealed space
as entwined silhouettes 
rotated throughout lit opalescence.

Encased in transparent artistic whirls
of configuration both sculptor 
and I shared the excitement of blown 
shape-shifting mystery.

Clearly bent on twisting
my heartstrings that vitrified mirage 
sensed I could not resist.

And as I viewed the aim of petrified
glass I knew I must have it.