Now i have strangled them all,
I am no longer a princess.
All that remains,
Is this beautiful golden dust.
But of it,
I may have some use.
My hair has no flair,
It dangles not the length of a tower,
All that is,
are these tiny, black &curly cauliflowers.
I don them well enough,
On my head planted like a crown.
My prince was neither a frog,
neither newt nor toad,
he had white matted hair,
And oh how he slobbered.
To transmute into a prince, he will not,
though all i need are his sweet licks of loyalty.
As i said, I am a princess no more,
Neither a maid to be wed,
I am a king resurrected.
From that beautiful golden dust.
Only in the more pleasing &shapely form of your queen.