Pavonine I.

Masquerade flawless, pride a squire,
Pavonine I, as I gleam in fear,
As light truer revealed; 'twas hubris,
A charade clichéd from one, unwise;

As it plays, as it rings,
When it stops, a tasteful clings,

Again.

Pavonine I, twice the beauty,
Once is inconstant, compare me;
To gold, or maybe jester's fee?
A pouch for ye, two more for me;

Another.

As I would weave you a piece;
One entwining, two forgotten creeds,
Pavonine I; a serenade for you,
Though coarse; like a rug putrid,

A blight.

Pavonine I; as it would sound as rotten,
As always if only I would-

Let it never end, remind me.

'Twas a hand away, or maybe closer,
A touch away, or even closer;

Maybe just a finger?

As it glistens in awe,
Its unruly crown's prowess,
What was deemed a flaw,
I though bid it flawless!

Its very core seamless,
Vermilion; and too its crest shimmers!
As the sky paints verdant,
Though I once deemed it cerulean,

And far ahead, though I feel you near,
As I reach out; a hand to the glittering air,

Thin'n cold, the wind as it sways near,
As always; as it sparkles near,


Far away as it resides ahead,
'Tis always, a hand away....

'Twas the day of the flowers,
When I had it dawned upon;
A boon dulcet; as it captivates,
The heedless I, to remain un-fond,

Of what was presented in felicity,
Gracefully in its poise, as it flickers,

Not under, but in the presence of

The night's soothing confidant,
As it would witness the myriad,
In its ever vigilance; as I would too,
Betroth myself to this very word:

Remember.

Much to my dismay, yours truly;
One concluding apology; if you will,
To the endearing you, much verily,
To the one in which I would confide;

My fiery petal,
One to have me stark,

And one to ignite my spark.