The Queen of Daffodils and Black Dahlias

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Gliding through the woodland,Stroking the dark fur of her wild friesian,An emerald crested baselard tied to her waist,She yearns for her home called GalliaThis is the queen of daffodils and black dahlias

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Gliding through the woodland,
Stroking the dark fur of her wild friesian,
An emerald crested baselard tied to her waist,
She yearns for her home called Gallia
This is the queen of daffodils and black dahlias.

Winds gushing through her free flowing hair,
Twisted with twigs and leaves of the white willow,
A garland of jasmines embracing the top of her head,
She carries a basket filled with brioche bread.

Bearing the mark of yin and yang on her arm,
She walks through the dazing markets of the Bay of Naples,
Standing tall like the cypress tree,
Listening to the buzzing bees.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee swimming in the air,
She follows it any time, everywhere,
Like a petunia calling upon a hummingbird
The coffee runs through her veins.

Doves flying over the ponds of eternity,
She strides passing by like a raven,
With her peasant companion beside
Who weaves the roads on her path.

Her smile is innocent and eyes are sly,
She is the serpent and she is the butterfly,
Lurching towards her hometown in time,
The mystical city named Gallia,
This is the queen of daffodils and black dahlias.

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