The Dawning of Prudence

I was not borne of my father's head
If anything, he bore me at his heel
I drank from his cup and ate his bread
I was hit humble, bent kneel.

Here stands my moon, all of alabaster then seemed
Dark as day- through unwise eyes mine.
A yellow-spotted salamander now be,
Distant as a May rose from a December pine.

Sweet spontaneity, I marked your demise
On the fated June Summer night
Bid fare-thee-well to Peter Pan and the Mermaids
No more adventures arboreal, nevermore flight.

The old heart does billow,
As I plod from the city of mauve
To my town of Yellow
The stars shine on, they look on below.