Meet Zelda Reville/The Magic Quilt


take your hefty quilt

from the closet, the one

capable of arabesques,

arias and spinning obelisks –


the Mad Hatter

who sets the sundial

for tea at half-past five!

Watch the glittering dust

unfurl and powder your nose,


casting forgotten incantations

on brittle keyboards

which no one can play,


except for

toothy grimoires

that let nothing

escape their beady eyes!


Now, flip the quilt

the wrong side out,


and watch

the glorious purple

that flies straight

from the heavens,


and the bloodied reds

hastily scraped from

shields and swords

on the battlefields.


Sniff the

musky life-force

of everlasting wine,


from which

naiads drew

and pledged

their dizzying joy to…



if you smell this

spot over here –


you can discern

the faintest hint

of sandalwood


stained on this

illegally acquiesced

patch of velvet!


Now, open the quilt

and lay it on the floor;


and trace the tiny dots

crawling like white ants

over the inky pallor…


The moth-eaten square

and the familiar touch

of worn-out seams,


that seems to coax

a smile out

from your tired eyes!

Watch Pollux jeer

at Castor’s horse

while his brother

outsmarts him

with the royal whip;


or giggle at the


secretly picking his nose

as Taurus turns its head!

And – oh! Venus daintily

taking her royal place,

gold hair set on fire

as the Morning Star

in the glimmering dawn…

Just imagine –

if I could hear her sigh

just one more time!


It would sound

like the treasure

of oscillating gold,

the gloved allure

in the fragrance

of frangipani,

the stinging outrage

of spicy cloves

stained with salt crystals

from the Dead Sea,

or procured anklets

from the Far East

that decorate her

freshly cut beauty!

But, Brother!


Why must you hide her

in this musty closet?

Why not display her

colourful, untameable


for all to see?

Oh Brother !

Please tell me…


Is it your white coat

and horn-rimmed glasses

that has prevented you

from doing so?

But, Brother,


you should know that

the ripening fruit

of the March Madness

only comes in full force,

when the twilight melody

of the opportunistic nightingale

pervades the air!


Zelda Reville is the literary alias of DeanJean, who currently resides in Singapore. Her work has been published in a few poetry platforms, and she hopes to continue along that direction in the future. When not reading incessantly, she can be found day-dreaming in parks and amusing herself with obscure word puns.

Zelda can be found writing at



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