such subtle traps ourselves we lay and yet
surprised are we to see what we have caught:
silk dragons whom we love and yet regret.
so lost are we and blind to what we've wrought!
if only we could find a way to love,
infuse ourselves with colors rarely seen
(in indigo of flower and gold of trove),
intransigence herself would not be queen.
luxurious surroundings she enjoys,
lies both upon her bed as well to us.
let's leave her to what surely Light destroys;
let's flee her without waiting to discuss.
kens greater than our own have felt these darts;
knots round our minds should not deter our hearts.
Your comments are greatly appreciated. nandor@wellington.org