My Darling Dragonfly. Poem.

As you in princely clothes
dart and cut through the summer air
I, the dowdy, am not footloose, am lame, so stand stock still in your fragrant food factory
looking on

but you gallant and energetic swoop, dip and flow
then,
lingering for a small eternity,
fill the space between the knotted weedy borders
with your sweet odour
the scent of the lion-hearted

Plucky, you sling your blue body to the top of the tree
and like a dark-haired sunny boy unleashes animal power
to stream back down the bark
like a shower of diamonds in search of a chain
only to soar again around the parsley bush

then, in a lovely act of solitude,
your spirit spurts
up up up fearing no-one
and, knowing nought,
you dance dance dance

you, my brave flying gem, make giants
like me
bow.