Curved in dark below,
the lamp shows softer browns,
and with its gentle light,
reveals my keyboard letters
that struggled in the dark before.

It is an elegant shape
and probably adorns many a lounge.
And I imagine corner sofas and coffee tables
with just the right magazine
and a super hi fi just in reach
to turn on the Chopin.

This lamp is silent
but sound fills my head,
as yet unfocussed
and finding a melody round its curves
takes me back to the baroque churches
of Santiago de Compostela.

The battalias fade
as the trumpeting organs drift
into the distance of time,
and I am looking at the grain of elm
picked out by the lamp.

Now is good,
surrounded by simple beauty
and I thank the lamp
and all that gives light
to the charm of this world.