6 December 2012
A spiked lattice of emerald green, Dotted elegantly across the scene. Embellished with juicy, crimson gems, Sprouting from a prickled stem.
Slimy-looking, as it reflects sunlight, And then matte, for the duration of the night, Sharp, spiky arms, sticking out, Yet, shrivelled up in self-conscious doubt.
Dusted with sugar, the colour of ice, Sparkling softly in the sunlight slice, Casting olive puddles on the ground, Whilst the red berries sleep, safe and sound.
Holly... • Opuss № I