To a Friend

Why is there such soothing beauty
in the glimmer of your eye?
No plain answer to such query
Lack they do the tones saphiric
Found within both seas and sky
( Some tradition would mandate
That all beauty rests on blue
Those who hold such creed as true
Have yet much to contemplate)
Their alure's from different source:
Not from cold beauty stagnate,
But from deeper inner force.

Their shape's that of a canvas
Where your characters play their roles
Here, a mask of sultry temptress,
So beguiling, in control
There, a saddened clown comes next
Heart in hand, in sleeve her soul
(of her business, none the jest!).
The namesake's that of a sorceress
Fitting bane of every man
Those that cross her path may find
A new shape that suits them best
And more fitting of their kind
To the features of a swine
Their forms turn at her request.

Yet upon the play's conclusion,
When all exited stage left
When of actors playing dramas
Is your Podium bereft
The remainder's far from hollow;
When your guard allows intrusion
Shows a different wealth to find:
Hints of weary disillusion
Shades of deep and sullen sorrow
They're the phanthoms in your opera
Taking hold on closing time.
Such ghosts could well be my friends,
For the way they mimic mine.

Wrote this poem to a friend, a year or so ago. Found it by chance, and was quite surprised at how much I am proud of it, considering I have a hard time loving anything I write. So, i decided to share it with you. Since it is dedicated to a specific person, there are some items that may remain unexplained. But that's ok, not everything bears examination.