Grace grows from Her arms,
Falling past the lake that bows
Toward Her elegant legs
Of virginal innocence.
The sea wished She were near
His bold waves, to see him crush
The demon’s ship for Her.
The prairie rejoices in Her voice
Which She sang from birth
To Mother who crafted Her heart
And Father who molded Her brain.
II. Growing Pains
The demons wanted Her more
Than Nature’s suitors, Yet
Took advantage of Her beauty
And left Her red roses to bleed.
She spread Her seeds further
To outrun the demon’s axe,
But the demons bred faster.
God, Her Father, struck Her body,
Causing the flames to consume
Her and His demons. It was only
So She could gleam green.
She underwent metamorphosis
And bloomed a song once more
Under the light of the sun
For the demons that ravished Her.
Her emerald eyes reflect blind;
Flickering and swaying against
The moon’s flowering glow.
She had long since learned
To not fear the demons that hid
Amidst Her trees and above
Her dress-trained ground.
⌊ © Serena Delgado (June, 2018) ⌉