A fleeting moment of beauty
April's guests were a-quiver, shivering.
Shimmering in their new robes.
Willow, all drooping limbs, kissed the air. Hissed to Rose
"Is that the bride without her clothes?"
Indeed it was the ravishing gown, whipped off, wanton, cast to the ground.
Weedy little Broom said "She picked the wrong groom.
Too fresh and breezy."
Denuding her was easy.
April's guests were looking forlorn.
Willow, bent and worn, spoke for all
When she exclaimed "We're no longer in thrall.
She gave herself up to the wrong one
And now her moment has been and gone.
He was no more than a puff
Before he grew strong and rough.
He'll be back - it's always the same."
And naked Magnolia looked on in shame.