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Yolanda Iolanda Jolenta
I'd welcome you tomorrow
more than two thousand years
as I unceasing live again and again
after the shredded fabric's
of thy living flesh being torn
into pieces spread sparingly over
the wild open grandeur leaving
only soft traces of me like rose petals
gathering beneath wide oaks and nestled fir's
I'd wither so over the cold tomb stones
of thee ancient one's tainted so throughout
the royal gate's of Yolanda von Vianden
I'd calmly be reminded of my soul's
quiet journey beckoning her yet again
sweet saint Yolanda of Hungary dazzled
by poverty oh how I thirst of her
My Yolanda Jolenta of Poland chafe
an yet I've endured her even more
knowing life's full immortal rapture
that I've always lived within her eternally
Princess Iolanda Savvoy dashing scrolls
above the roman empire showering scent's
amid Italy's impressive gardens blankets
of flowers covering the continuous greenery
as my soul venture's on a more subtle canto
cunningly she entered me thee silent civil words
of Yolanda Yolanda King an overwhelming shyness
aboded into a thinking sphere doting on father hearing
naïve conversations daintily she sat with
outspoken words fascist temperamental values
over land an sea I'd catered to her equality
Yolanda the mind body and spirit of me
Copyright ©
Yolanda Nicholsen
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