Sweet jewel encrusted juice falls from a rose,
carrying with it a scent of deep joy,
that stays with her on whom it has reposed.
It brings her depth and a sense for the coy,
it brings her up to a higher standard.
What was quaint, is now regal. What was nice
is now beautiful. Eyes get meandered
from their right paths to see what once was ice
and now is fire. With lips (full berries)
With eyes (bright stones), with hair (burnt
patch of night).
She’s not human, but a queen of fairies
Beneath the glean of her rose colored light.
Then the moments done, back to daily life,
once a fairy queen, returns to daily strife.
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