Monarchs Fall to Grace

The Monarchs Fall to Grace.

  Dancing outside my window, held there by her cathedral of potted blooms. Dressed in her flowing gown of velvet black and orange being not the only beauty in the room.
  The queen of gossamer wings, born of a chrysalis beginning to soar among kings. A daughter of royalties past, the princess of fleeting things.
  From a traveler of foreign lands, to trapped by boys with nets and cans.  To a family of many to come this far, to escape the net and Masson jar.
  If only I could be held in your court, to be dubbed a knight I jest , trying not to cry. I stand in awe of your Majesty’s presence, kept there upon my window sill, locked there no matter what you try.
  Your own private quarters made just for you and my prying eyes. I will keep you forever my Queen, or at least till you die.
   So dance your highness, for all the world to see, show them your finery and your world confined in this tiny place. Dance for me your highness oh you Monarch as you fall to grace.

By GWRoggenbuck