I

If a glance can expose what I desire—

Invite the glancèd with me to retire—

And if an eye can warm with its dark coal

My chastity, why does my wink cool fire?

II

Fortune has graced me with the great pleasure

Of feeling with great tact Life’s next measure;

But, why does Fortune from my life withhold

Love’s coal concealed like a burning treasure?

III

I cursed Fortune and resented my fame;

I sought the Chatelaine’s fabled war game

And I conjured the winds to conceal me

As I prepared to look into the flame.

IV

Perfume purified for me the thick air

And made it light with its vanity fair

As query led to quest and I awayed

To High Tea, “Hierophant” my nom de guerre.

V

Sometimes, I get a good feeling; I feel—

The Chatelaine handed me a prayer wheel

And, as she poured the tea, I prayed mantras

That made Life taste like pekoe with orange peel.

VI

Perhaps, I dare say, interaction saves,

And, like thin wind, contact does calm the waves;

Freedom has the great scent of rose water

And rose red are Anticipation’s slaves.