The flames flicker and illuminate
laughing under the stars.
One weaves crowns of white and green,
then adorns their heads
and declares them royalty.
The king comments that they’re crowned
in weeds, and the princess
who wove them
responds that they’re flowers.
They argue, joke,
and fall from their thrones
as the flames flicker on.
And when the moon lazily reaches its peak,
the queen declares them
The princess and king happily agree
and the royals continue in peace.
For when the flames flicker and die,
they’ll go their separate ways.
The flower weeds will be cast aside,
but their crowns will forever remain.
*(Note: This whole poem is based on a real life moment just a few days earlier. I would rather not explain the symbolism because it’s difficult to explain and specific to us. Those involved will understand when they read it. For the rest of you, you don’t need to understand. It can be whatever you imagine.)
Picture source: pinterest
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