A Birthday, by Christina Rossetti

My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot:
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.

Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleur-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

Well, dove and nest are in the poem - but not really a singing bird, and the nest is in a barn, not a "watered shoot" - oh well...

We are back home, and about to go out for a meal at the place my daughter had her wedding reception, to celebrate their first wedding anniversary (which is tomorrow) - along with Sam's family. It's been a good year, but oh, so full. Of joys and sorrows.

(Appropriate that peacocks are mentioned - as that was the theme for the wedding.)