The enchanting imperfection 

Of the broken crystal chandelier 

Still hanging in the centre

Makes everything look so mystical 

When the evening twilight 

Fills the room;

Peaking through my windows.  

It casts jagged shapes

On the expansive ivory walls

The centre table reflecting

The yellow, broken twinkle

In my dry, marble eyes.

My sparse den feels heaven

Away from the earth-chaos

Studded with stars 

Dust of the past, swirling 

In the glare of the broken, 

Fragmented chandelier light. 

Imperfect life, marred moments  

Complete with minutiae 

Etched crystal clear in memory 

It’s the imperfections that make them

Endearingly remarkable.

Otherwise, all-time would be

One episode dovetailing

Flawlessly with another;

Perfectly forgettable!