The Wrapping-Room
Judi Sutherland

In the palace of Versailles, a room was set
aside for the wrapping-up of gifts.
Picture it, industrious, equipped
with rolls of paper, ribbon reels, rosettes

and gauzy tissue in rococo shades –
where, schooled in the ancient art of origata
by a specially-imported Japanese master,
half a dozen buxom parcel-maids

folded, smoothed and tied, and with daring skirls
of scissor-blades, imparted corkscrew curls

to ribbon ends. The person of the king
was made from silver gilt and jewels, a glittering royalty,
to dazzle noble courtiers into loyalty
and signal who was out, and who was in.

One day there’ll be a change in the regime,
but now, while you appear to have control,
if you want to circumvent the little stroll
between the tumbrel and the guillotine

and live to stumble out into the street,
you’ve got to work at keeping people sweet.

Judi Sutherland worked in the pharmaceutical and biotechnology industry for 23 years until taking redundancy in 2011. Her poems have appeared in The Interpreter's House, Oxford Poetry, New Statesman and Acumen, among others. She blogs about her writing at www.judisutherland.com and also edits The Stare’s Nest www.thestaresnest.com

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