Each woman wore a dress of flowers ...

The last time I'd been spellbound by Botticelli was in the Uffizi, one raw February, before my hair became white - 

I knew the gorgeous figures in Primavera would haunt my dreams - 

I plucked the sweet apples from the dark trees - perfumed breath caressed my skin - 

Now I gazed at Dante and Beatrice, their souls dissolving in the empyrean - 

Once more I was overcome with tenderness and wonder - 

I'd seen the poet, guided by Virgil, make his way through the lowest depths of hell - 

I'd seen him ascend Mount Purgatory, recognising myself amongst the sinners - 

Now, standing in this high ceilinged room, I felt myself bathed in joyous light - 

Angels were flying amongst the glass towers - 

Each man I saw was a poet - each woman wore a dress of flowers - 

Friday March 18 2016

Botticelli and Treasures from the Hamilton Collection

The Courtald Gallery 

Somerset House

London