Flowered in the off season you were overlooked,
the eyes that held you
spoke of others, and
the beauty they contained,
like a butterfly net.
You were unabridged,
with a glow that supplanted
the most radiant of beings.
Of springtime's dower
you received its grace
in place of petal'd fronds,
they were scattered in dulcet artistry.
But a work of art wanes
when it remains unnoticed,
silently fading like a spreading ripple,
when its catalyst has disappeared into the waters of age.
You were radiant to topple myths
of earthly beauty.
But the earth proved unready for such clandestine consummation,
and with fatal drudgery you faded from our eyes.