ALES AND AMBROSIAS

it is not a lifting
but a falling
from heights
through airy light
into dales
where long tables
lie laden with ales
and ambrosias,
ptarmigan and quail,
and on rimmed greens
brimming with oak
father, mother
uncles and aunts
and ancient friends
sing and dance

and rogues and foes
gentled by the fall
prance in mirth
over brightest leas
all brueghel, ruby of cheek
as merry with their deaths
they gambol to mandolins
and tell in poems of riddles
not told them in life.