Blossoms of true love grow by the light
of only the bluest of moons,
watered only with the tears of the fairy folk
cried exactly at noon,
a dragon must have planted the seed
a hundred years before,
on earth that had never been sacrileged
by the bloodshed of war,
every Beltane Eve, thereafter,
a unicorn must have slumbered on the spot.
then the seed may miraculously sprout
or maybe not.
But if that seed grows into a plant
and that plant bears a flower
Only then may mere mortals be blessed
with love's magic power.
For true love overcomes
whatever stands in its way
and transcends all realities
to last forever and a day.
