Donald Benson Blanding

Torch Ginger

The Kings are gone and gone are kingly ways
With rituals of ancient vanished days
When shark-skinned drums throbbed thunder in the night
And royal torches flamed with crimson light
If ghosts of Kings and stately Queens return
Their sad remembering eyes will brightly burn
With joy to find a loyal flower remembers
Torch Ginger petals flare with phantom embers.