Captive Queen, A Sweet Formed Melody (2) Poem by Captain Cur

My beautiful Queen, prisoner of fate,
How cold these bars that lock this mighty gate;
But do not rest uneasy in thy cage
Though years be long thy heart must not dismay.
I hear a song, a sweet formed melody
That once graced thy lips, sing it then for me
In voice as pure that blends with nightingales'
Beneath this moon, a sight we both can share.
Despair not, I hold a wild blossom,
Though frail, it fought and reached out for the sun,
Despite heat and winter's frost it became,
Opening itself to this earth through hope and pain.