Madame Silver and Sir Gold

Ignominious: A terrible remark of pomp and pretentiousness.

"Ignominious", quoth the gilded vessel as he sees

He who swathed his bones that rattles in glee;

Holding his manifold spectacles and lenses

Against the immaculate contrary to his senses

A jolly time indeed.

At his behest waited here chilly and wily

A pleasant shining joy of whitened lily

From her armor: they tremor, they clamor

From her bust: they rust, they run aghast

A wily time of joy indeed.

And come this nubile lily of coquetry

Stumble upon on His swollen poetry

Oftentimes He unleashes his soul and all

His spirit -- indomitable yet small.

A rueful time indeed.

But thence an oblivion reposes;

A brilliance of mouths and noses

Smelt and tasted umpteen repulses

Let alone heard bitterly noises

An awkward time for all.

And his perched poetry halted at last

Her gilded whiteness withered fast

On the buxom's grace his drought subsided

His errors and mishaps she divided

A time for Spring and Fall.

And in Summer's week she glides

And in Winter's night he slides

But in bleak days and active nights

Know nothing but to recite and fight

A time for Poetry and all.

And that time or day may come to rest

When all are merely beckoned to test

Sir Gold and Ma'am Silver at my behest

Asking them to suit their very best

Judgment is on my call.

And he, the stranger nondescript

I saw him visibly next to the Crypt

And he who peers through my eyes

Shall know my ghoul intents and lies!

 my wiles, my all!

in Perdition shall I fall!

Sir Gold, hear my call!

let not these nefarious nightmares in my darkest of dreams be recalled

Madame Silver heed my call,

for before I ever fall

morph these vessels and all.

Make them worthy of your right

Make them worthless of your sight

Make them tightless before a bight

Make them dim before a light

And thus Madame Silver touches the screen

A fallow glass full of spray and green

Let He, Sir Gold, gild his covers of filth

After all, a swollen poetry was born of guilt.

Author's Note

I did this poetry half-minded, the other half sauntering over the hills and knolls of good vibrations.