Your Primrose blossomed in the Spring frothy petals in the light flared a brilliant hue your season to groom I stitched a garland to pair my green blades with your orbit, blushing from your radiant glare a satellite garnishing stray beams My doting shadow, enfiladed by the waxy glow of your stems, entrenched around your lurid stalk Vassal bands nestled below as the sultry air bore your fragrance to the tips of each driveling strand
Growing in your rendered space light years from your radiant estate milk weeds fawned at your feet, but my encroaching shadow and twining sickles could not seal your comely face In just a few days, the light from your bright candle flittered its last beam your silky cheeks folded, not from winter's cold stare or the wind's shaking reins Unencumbered by my embrace, without flair or aplomb, you cast your gilded parasol to its shallow, un-dug grave A decaying, still life brand now shrouded my sodded feet