The Death of A Queen - A Prayer rose to Heaven
of colours so bright and fine
lay buried in deepest blackest finest layers of Earth
an open well of gravesite of memories
a Very Holy Place indeed
here was the gravesite of a Queen!
Hallowed be thy name
a gravesite so very fine
holiness lay buried here
her heart had loved with the purest kind
of Love that anyone could find...
Now a Holy Place indeed
watched over by a monk and friar
in black garment he walked down the stairs
to tend to the Plaque
holding on to an old iron railing
of once living thoughts and feelings gone sad
to tend to this Holy Grave
where Love of HIS Queen was buried
...yet lo and behold...
A Resurrection of Life happened
in those days
as Spirit so mistily shining and fine
of sweet smelling translucent roses of wild
rose from this Holy Place
to Eternal sweet floating soul`s Vine...
she had loved him Divine...
...a quiet, silent friendship remains...
“It happened. 5 o`clock in the morning...Resurrection..."