Would you allow the mystery in this rhyme,
To pique your curiosity to ask:
What wonder lies behind this paper mask?
And yet unanswered, stay to watch my mime?
As snowdrifts melt from silken white to clear,
When standing in that truthful sunny beam,
So melts my cloak, where searching eyes do gleam:
Is that a vase, or wine glass standing here?
Snowflake patterns repeat within themselves,
As mysteries solved just lead to mysteries yet,
Likewise my answers, questions new, beget,
And deeper mysteries come to she who delves.
If you would grace me with your presence, then
I'll answer, and let mystery start again.

Nik Trevallyn-Jones, 1996.