‘This is amethyst,’ he said, ‘which is the mirror of

humility and reminds us of the ingenuousness and

sweetness of Saint Matthew.’

Umberto Eco

I've been putting the house in order –

ordo amoris – even with some rage for it.

I've also been thinking amethyst,

mirror of humility, my name saint's

ingenuousness and sweetness, wondering

how to make truth laugh and break free

of passio for gravitas. It's been a bad winter.

But now there's sealant, ingenuous-white,

around the bath, its celebratory

vinegar smell; there's new dignity for the wheelie bin

given its own new swanky site;

but especially the garden's looking orderly,

tadpoles jiggle in the pond, goldfish flicker,

and, look, primulas (now that's what I call amethyst!)

Let's say they're Spring's laughter, purple laughter,

beaded bubbles winking at the brim.