Bringing fruit from the blooming

Of dark, hopeful lips;

From a pause,

To a purse,

To a soft airy phrase;

Pushed past rose

In the simplest prose,

A tender disclose

Belying its hue.

Couched in a quirk;

A brief dimpled twitch:

A question,

An answer,

A sweet imposition,

A challenge to leave

Or stay and believe

Lupine intentions

Are safer in wool.

(A raven-like veil

Drawn in a blink

Lifted

Returned)

(Feline intemp'rance

And eight lives to go

Safety forsaken

In order to know)

I liked the idea of the original last two lines of the first stanza, but I just couldn't make the language work with the rhythm.  I'm still not sure I'm sold on the new last line, but it's growing on me.

One of the biggest problems I have coming back to a poem and trying to add to it, as opposed to simply editing what's already there, is attempting to rediscover the patterns and schemes of the original pieces so that the new pieces match.  Today, on this one, I'm failing completely.