My eyes widen,  

Slowly panning side to side. 

A sea of people moves about,  

Laughing, and chatting away, 

 

And there I go, 

Waltzing through the aisles of store fronts, 

Their array of vivid colours illuminates the ambience. 

From clothes, to jewellery, apothecaries to candles, 

Shoes, books, and stationery. 

 

Propped up by a doorway of light, 

A chest of glistening diamonds upon diamonds, 

Metals upon metals, 

Stones upon stones, 

Of all shapes and sizes. 

One to suit any being, 

Child, youth, or adult. 

 

But halt! What do I see here? 

 

My gaze wanders and rests upon a miniscule detail, 

Amongst the glass-case of metals. 

A locket, with a hinge connecting a bird within a circular bracket. 

And oh, what a bird it appears to be! 

 

The bronze sheen in the light, 

Its head gestured down in honour. 

A body so slender and graceful, 

Carrying the span of its perfectly angled wings, 

So slim and pinned to the frame, 

With an almighty tamed arrow, 

Drawn at its beak.  

 

 But beyond the flying specimen, 

A pure white dial, with numbers of elegant calligraphy, 

Both twelve and twenty-four zones in the day, 

Printed neatly along the circumference, 

Encrusted with a floral engraving. 

 

I had not seen such an object, 

My eyes fix upon it sharply, 

My cheeks turn beetroot pink, 

The blood flowing like  

Honey from a honey dipper 

Filling onto a spoon, 

And down my neck to my arms and chest. 

 

 My lips begin to slowly part, 

My heart beating at accelerando, 

And these elements synchronising, 

With the tick-tock of the watch hands, 

Where all the surrounding sounds and light, 

Dimmed down to a whisper, almost muted, 

Flowing in waves all around me.  

 

My right hand reaches for the locket, 

My thumb gently stroking the bird, 

The bird smiles, 

And my lip crease upwards in return.