Masquerade-Villanelle

Dusted with neglect in their tomb,
assorted gems of my past lay scattered.
I retired my riches and so they faced their doom.

Rather than a collection of an exotic birds' plume-
Brittles of pressed flower petals and crusty stamps. Each one to me mattered
I retired my riches and so they faced their doom.

Then I began to design an original masquerade costume.
Sketchbooks scarred with black chalk, watercolors speckled and spattered-
dusted with neglect in their tomb.

Then I grew older. I lit scented candles, sprayed perfume,
and wore clothes that only flattered.
I retired my riches and so they faced their doom.

Spring was the perfect time for all things to bloom.
Dreams, love and flowers but by Fall, they would be smattered-
dusted with neglect in their tomb.

I don't keep hobbies now. I keep track of what I consume.
I've created several self-portraits. All sunken cheeked, baggy eyed, body shattered-
dusted with neglect in their tomb.
I retired my riches and so they faced their doom.