Sword Blades
Apology
 

Be not angry with me that I bear
  Your colours everywhere,
  All through each crowded street,
    And meet
  The wonder-light in every eye,
    As I go by.

Each plodding wayfarer looks up to gaze,
  Blinded by rainbow haze,
  The stuff of happiness,
    No less,
  Which wraps me in its glad-hued folds
    Of peacock golds.

Before my feet the dusty, rough-paved way
  Flushes beneath its gray.
  My steps fall ringed with light,
    So bright,
  It seems a myriad suns are strown
    About the town.

Around me is the sound of steepled bells,
  And rich perfumed smells
  Hang like a wind-forgotten cloud,
    And shroud
  Me from close contact with the world.
    I dwell impearled.

You blazon me with jewelled insignia.
  A flaming nebula
  Rims in my life. And yet
    You set
  The word upon me, unconfessed
    To go unguessed.