Nap Of Monarch's Wing Poem by Mark Heathcote

On the back of Monarch's wing, have I flown?
And crossed time's ageing ravages.
Into that livery, my king holds the throne
And saves all, but these wolves and savages.

Did I not unfurl into some richer reaches?
Cocooning; scatter my heart, lustrous web.
Fly over blue sparkling vaporous beaches.
Did I not crumble ashore and ebb?

Like some oily driftwood, hadn't I rolled?
Prodigiously darker their nonchalant waves
emblematic -of the dark side of the moon scrolled
Oh—edify my soul with one that saves?

The monarch's beauty is but royally savaged.
The landscape of any hungry larvae -ravaged.