Placed
Literally placed bush flowers in his hair,
He figuratively placed flowers in my hair.
Methodical giggles all around;
Whilst shaking prized petals down.
Downwards spiralling to the ground
Now sediments of floral mound
The clock it ceased forevermore
When love was such and sin was spore.
Braving and craving hence with wreath
All those flowers from beneath
Literally placed a wreath on his head
For such a king I breathed to bed.
Copyright © Paris-Maree Boreham | Year Posted 2020
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