Cloud Nine Dilemma

My love she is a seraphim
immaculate, unblemished, pure -
visions of her alabaster skin
nourish like mother's milk.
A lamb in white wolf's clothing,
I howl at her pearly gates
for just one lightning glimpse of
that porcelain profile,
that champagne hair of sheerest silk,
that frosted ivory smile....

But she bids me not enter.

Do I charge these nacre gates
Crashing down her chalked pillars -
a White Knight astride his snowy steed
claiming his gleaming trophy?
Or remain forever frozen and forlorn
transparent, cowardly, defeated
Brandishing my flag
of Surrender?

P.J. Murphy (c) P.J. Murphy 2005 Note: This was an entry for one of a series of Allpoetry.com contests with colour themes, this one being 'White'