Pyjama Party

PYJAMA

Our gifted purpose, be there one,
may enjoin to offer invitations;
though ‘tis said in scripture,
“many are called but few choose.”
My choice is to a fine wedding – a joining
of mind and spirit and dance of will –
but a PJ party may serve as well.

The Manor House at Sakin’el
could serve in echo or pretension
of the upper reaches of Riversleigh.
Find here rooms called Garret,
Sky, Forest and Council …
and Bath, of course –
which is why they come.
Guests come in pairs or alone,
in groups or imagination,
to soak in the claw-foot tub
midst candle flicker
and scent of oils infused,
in ways only women appreciate.
A trail of chocolates lures them on
to ablutions akin to ancient pools
and rebirth wells and forgiving springs.

You see, Pyjama is more of Pygmalion
than of mental ‘jam’ or ‘drama’,
and the giggles prancing in the halls
serve to mask the whispers
of a sharing of sisterhood
beyond my ken or need.

I will by choice and call
gather sword and buckler shield
and stand outside ‘neath Mistress glow
and guard the portals and secret paths,
far from the ebbing glow of unfolded spirit,
too bright by far …
that could consume my soul.