Pantomime

Oh what is love,

But a clever little pantomime?
Garbed equally in brilliant motley
Or black and white rhyme.
A portrait of unsullied glee,
Yet palpable and culpable
Of dastardly connivance and tragedy.
Clever twit delightfully bilingual
In both silence and playful revelry.

Weaving stories and worlds
From expansive nothingness
For the imagineless mind but unfurls
A landscape of richness.
Addled trickster nary a stand.
Content a truthful phoney.
Oh what is love then,
But a beautiful irony?