Tomorrow come not this hour

 When hearts tremble

  Like a leaf on the wind

   That stirs the soul

 

The soul perishes not this day

 When imagination grows

  Like a pupating monarch

   With a long journey to make

 

The heart weakens not this year

 When grace dearly bought blooms

  Like a Tudor rose garden

   Gracing a royal life of ease

 

The realm of the queen is ending

  Bested by her mortality she submits

   Check over master, over subordinate

    She sacrifices all her power for peace

 

Yet the life-force wanes not

             When all is health and possibility

               For wedded ants are emerging at dusk

                 To found new and innovative realms