Queen of the Garden
She flutter's and spins
She twirls in the breeze
and confesses her sins
She does not consider the trouble she's in.

The sun rays peek down
through the trees in the sky.
The birds sing hosanna,
Hosanna on high.
They do not remember don't eat that or die.

Flora so pure, aromatic obsession.
Butterflies light on the Queen and are crying.
Fauna delights in imperial selection.
Pitiful saga oh sweet dandelion,
when you are Queen and the weeds are all dying.

Pick Me! cryied the weed.  Pick Me! I am ready,
to be on your table so pretty and fresh,
to be what is strewn off the new spiral jetty,
To be what you want when you decorate death.
When you toss and you turn and you take your last breath.

Lily leaned over to tell Rose a secret.
Daisy and Violet accepted the pardon.
Iris swayed gently, was told not to peek yet.
Camelia said, "Pansy the earth soon will harden,
and Dandie, You'll never  be Queen of the Garden."

Queen of the Garden sits down with her seeds.
She pucks a peony for her hair.
All day long she's been picking weeds,
and blowing fairies into the air.
So Dandie can reseed herself out there.

They both take leave in a silent prayer.