The Flower Queen

The Flower-Queen

The green outside was dead or fighting for its luscious soul, Though inside a single flower bloomed, perfection as her goal, Unbereft of warmth or love she prospers in her prison, Where desires of another place have suddenly arisen.

As queen she bloomed as red as roses, powerful as life, Her manmade bed she needed break, for a love does she so strife, Magick came, her heart it changed, her body was transformed, There stood the first, the truth I speak, a woman unadorned.