Pyramid Scheme Poem by Jay Dreamer

[Another stab at poetry]

Desert wind hits a solitary bloom,
petals of gold, emerald leaves,
roots in mineral clay delay doom,
for rain it rarely receives.

Tour guide of the pyramids warns,
'Take no flowers or be cursed'
An ancient myth, some old yarns,
many tourists imagine the worst.

None took a second look but one
Aussie in her final college year,
a student of botany having fun,
her curiosity numbs her fear.

'He gets paid to excite the tour,
and the souvenir shop is closed'
she, after dark, slips out the door
(to see the stars, they supposed.)

New moon flung low a gray glow,
in size 7 Timberlands she struts,
pulse is peaked, but pace is slow
knife blade shimmers as it cuts.

Wildflower thorns turn lips cold?
native flora such a prickly thing!
to guard the emeralds and gold
hiding inside is a scorpion sting.