Jade

In my child’s eye the colour of jade
was the colour of snot:
the same viscid texture, I thought.
There was little else to match its shade.

Years later, I saw the real thing,
a blob of balm (and as much grace)
locked inside a museum case –
until I came to dated Ming.

Decades thence, its rock pool glaze
served as lover’s gift, its green
to grace a vaunted queen…
Or lose itself in a trollop’s ways.

***