Dreaming of diamonds: What it would have been like at the Ambani wedding

This week, poet and artist Frieda Hughes joins the Kardashians, Blairs and Boris Johnson in the champagne skies of her imagination

This week I did not attend the Ambani Hindu wedding [unlike Tony and Cherie Blair] / So studded with diamonds, emeralds and pearls of such size (AP)

DUCK’S DELIGHT

This week I did not attend the Ambani Hindu wedding

So studded with diamonds, emeralds and pearls of such size

That they would have punctuated the skies in my imagination

Like stars, for years to come. Nor did I witness

English footballers lose the Euros final

From the sweaty sidelines of their disappointment,

Or watch the last of Wimbledon from the drizzled-on edges

Of the centre court. Instead, I negotiated the weight

Of a motorbike against my physical limitations

And rode the back roads to Bala, where the furrowed lake

Laid out the fractured heavens for windsurfers to struggle with

The bare whisper in the movement of air, and the ducks

Noticed my rucksack bag of brown bread being broken

Into as many pieces as I could get out of it.

Their curious little heads drew closer, the orange of their feet

Brighter than the most extravagant wedding shoes,

Their eyes fixed on food more faithfully than any footballer,

Their gently enquiring beaks, warm to the touch, more successful

In mid-air target-management than a pro-held tennis racket.

So much joy from a fast ride, half a loaf and many feathered heartbeats.