When I dream queens its violet and clean

one of my few to many not enough rhapmantic bursts

Her face is supreme

It is cordial and cream.

Jagged edge in the seat of her Throne.

Tell me who comes by her?

The cheat and the miser.

All will prevail and look down.

 

She is cheap and she’s used.

She has counted her dues.

She carries her head like a crown.

She knows where the bones are bitter and groans

‘Ah! My Love, my love, isn’t fair’.

 

If only she’d known

When she picked up her phone

Not a speck of her isn’t fair.

But she swears disbelief in the fig and the leaf

And I cry hollow tears of despair.

Reviews

[love, lorey]

Gorgeous. Wonderful flow, excellent use of words and emotion.

Another beauty, Sputter. :)

[Sami Khalil]

"She is cheap and she’s used.
She has counted her dues.
She carries her head like a crown."

I hope she will take that as positive...A splendid poem...:)................

[Sputter Outlaw]

Thanks !