Literature
The King and Queen
I'll be the Queen of Fall,
with red oak leaves in my birch wood hair,
and kisses that taste like maple syrup.
I'll dub you my King of Catch,
to hold me when the Winter fae come clawing at my door,
and the glittering wings of winter breaths carry depression through my lungs.
We'll make love on drizzling April afternoons,
and warm June evenings, when even the sun is reluctant to go to sleep.
We'll have princesses and princes
of Spring and Summer
who's eyes glitter like frost on willow limbs,
and minds bloom like violet petals.
Thunderclaps will be our drum beat,
when we hold concerts for the cicadas and whispering grass.
Lightning