I don't know, who this woman is
That claims to be the queen
As i always assumed it was my mother
Who discreetly remained unseen

They were both born,in the very same year
Back in nineteen twenty six
The queen sat upon a throne of gold
My mother, a throne of sticks

So instead i shall wear a crown
Made of natures finest flowers
Happy to be a fairy queen
As i dance amidst the bowers

Lost in the beauty of this magical realm
The birds, bees, and beautiful trees
The buttercups, and forget-me-nots
And happy faces, eager to please

But soon i shall remove my crown
As a myriad others will do
For today the park will be full of queens
And picnickers, artists, musicians, entertainers, and poets too!

We shall hope that mother nature
Will let the sun remain
And the breeze will blow the clouds away
And the rain, will not reign

by Jemia