Spring King and Queen
How could it be that Auriel and Brian
became school lioness and lion?
Whereas I with frizzy mop and skin less pale
was made to bow and hail
the pair with fragrant sprigs and toss
these at their feet to crown my loss.
Her plaited locks formed ringlets
underneath the crown.
Her milky skin spoke volumes
and graceful nape, soft down.
She stared at me with pure disdain –
across her cheek I’d left a pollen stain.
Fifty years on and I’m still unbowed
to tell the truth, won’t march with the crowd.
I doubt she thinks of me today
as I might think of her.
Still, with those spring days in mind
I too now may see
why Auriel, so long ago
was chosen our Queen Bee.
Comments about this poem (Spring King and Queen by Julian De Wette )
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