Beauty is Breathless

A vain man looks at himself in a mirror.

Oh, how you look tonight.

I gaze upon your eyes, a trickle

Of immortal waters

Circumnavigating vision’s dilations

And precious lips

And see

Oh!

Perfection.

Love, a lock threaded hoop

Dancing, weaves

Round you in ballroom’s first waltz, none

Can resist.

Whenever their mineral masks

Turn ere-

Admire

Admire

Admire,

Wing thruple beats conduct

Breathlessly!

Such a symphony

Of simple string-ed hearts.

The music, an oboe sole,

Pythons from basket

Vines

Of angel kiss’ed

Iridesence.

Look!

Grafted onto your rayon sense,

Butterfly antennae needles

Rabbit

Up!

And down,

From quartz facets to Olympus,

Fleshy template for expressions

Ground

Where all fall

Patters of wishful

Colors.

Flatter constantly

The red blush of lady’s cheek;

Nimble gymnasts spin, swirl

Light feet on perfume,

Invisible

Words follow wistful looks-

I love you

I love you

I love you

But not

Required, for your tasseled smiles

Sever need

To depart hearts, ingredients

For lasting.

You’re rinsed in cloudy tufts

From thousand

Pounds,

Heavy

Love’s encumbrance.

Such brilliance! empowers persuasion

Where once was ne’er heard.

Then placed is die topped scepter in hand.

Oh, how you look tonight.

Author's Note

Beauty should take your breath away and this is what set the form of my poem. Although it doesn't rhyme, it repeats the number of syllables in each line after the middle. Kind of unconventional, but that's me. :)

I wrote this for the beginning of a story I'm writing and this is the part where the vain man looks at himself in the mirror and loves what he sees.

Reviews

[Sher A. Lynn]

I can almost see this recited visually, but in my head. Reminds me of classic poems by long dead writers, their words stick with us, just the same.

[R J Askew]

What a tumult of ideas, images and passionate declamations! And what a shame no one has written one syllable of appreciation, until now. The title drew me to it. Yes, beauty should leave us breathless and sometimes does when we are very lucky. I wld not exactly experience this riot of love on looking in the mirror, but I might were I to see my poems looking back at me. But please don't tell anyone I said that ;)))