Queen of Flowers
Each morning at grandma’s I woke up and went outside
in my white sundress with no shoes
to the garden I ran until I found her, green robe, pink sweater,
and water can. Her beautiful sunflowers towered over
me; I often thought I could climb them if I tried.
I laid in the grass and dreamt
she had magical power.

She was a fairy
broken and scarred,
her features had gone cold
but anything she touched sprang to life.
Sometimes, when she didn’t know
I watched, I saw a warm glow
from her smiling face that looked young
again, the wrinkles disappeared
for the fairy was peeking out of those bright blue eyes.

The fairy slowly began to leave
her broken body. My grandma never went outside
anymore, but she watched out her kitchen window,
her flowers destroyed by neglect. The birds kept her company
as they fluttered about
the feeder, her smile was gone.
The birds had taken it to a happier place.
Grandma told us that she wanted to die;
I always wondered what she prayed.
In the Nursing home the fairy fade
slowly away, until only her strong heart
was alive. I saw the blue eyes turn
gray

her skin dried up.

I saw that smile return,
that warm glow reappeared.
She flew away from that broken body
to where the flowers bloom endlessly.
In her original beauty, she was free,
the flowers bloomed again,
the Queen had returned.
I wrote this in memory of my grandma. When I was yonger I'd often think this way of her and I wrote it up as I watched her deteriorate and I got older, up until her death.




Poetry