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Princess Amalia of Orange.
Our guest in today's plot
wakes from a depth thought
as a swash entering any shore
her kisses seat as a belt locks
click! In awe range, he's a frog
picking adore, weaving imagination
bending knob to her drumming door
ribbits up her hall, feeling her walls
princess meets frog, for he had come.
Time is like a bird
it's a migrating herd
yesterday, we'd bread
today, we kept all we ate.
If love flows like oceans slow
the moon would be my mood bow
crescent, playing dimensions in soul
so I met her in the gentle glide of hope.
Publishing here in Forest Crib Books is akin to the necessary communication valued in marriage. I've got two more poetry books waiting for the princess, and I can't wait to share them; they're like love letters to a friendly face I'm hoping will endearingly say hi. Thank you, gorgeous, for this one.
I want to thank the Royal Houses of Europe for their inspiration. Your nations tell stories that can't be told by anyone; it's a dream to come this close. The House of Orange-Nassau in the Netherlands, the House of Bourbon in Spain, the House of Grimaldi in Monaco, the House of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha in Belgium, the House of Windsor in the United Kingdom, the House of Bernadotte in Sweden, the House of Glücksburg in Denmark, the House of Oldenburg in Norway, the House of Luxembourg-Nassau in Luxembourg, and the House of Liechtenstein in Liechtenstein. Writing poetry with you in mind almost ascends my soul with a purpose only your ancient lands could have conceived.
