Pierrot and Columbine

     Pierrot and Columbine

The beautiful refuses to be seen

To care.  It lingers everywhere and waits

For love’s attentions.  In a morning scene

It hovers up above us and dictates

The terms of our devotion.  Beauty does not

Concern itself with worship.  Every praise

Will be ignored.  No flattery or thought

Of veneration will minimally faze,

Or faze at all.  The beauty we adore

Is cool like dawn horizons.  Being wise

Or stupid makes no difference.  You might soar

In reverence, but then beauty turns its eyes

Away.  Loveliness levitates above

And leaves us dangling in our puppet love.