The Empress of Ice Cream
Call the family to the golden urn,
the sunny one, the floral one, and
in mournful tone bid her farewell.
Let them notice a second passing, one
being spiritual. They used to wear dresses
as identical as bees, while sipping tea in the sun.
Let the bluebonnet fix it's beam
the only empress is the empress of ice cream.
Take a round of the room would you,
lacking lifeforce but holding her image.
A joyful smile embroiders each photo,
spreading across her face with glee.
If you see the one at the beach, see her fairy
feet. Remember the way they would dance
in the kitchen. Let that be the final seem.
The only empress is the empress of ice cream.
