With rosemary for rememberance
Senseless with pansies for your thoughts
With fennel for your flattery
And columbine for unchastity
And daisies and violets and rue for your repentance
Down to the river's edge she wanders
Among the gilded cobras and the willows
Meanders through tunnels of bamboo
Leaving barefoot tracks along the sand
Into reflection's pool she dips her hand
Ophelia jump not into the water
The river is deep and you'll go down
Ophelia chase not the white bird of silence
The rot is in Denmark not in your heart
Forget the cues and the adornments
Forget the princes and your wish for acceptance
Out her there are no props no stage lights
Out her Ophelia you direct your own life
Floating like a lily pad in white
She has walked onto the wrong stage
This is not her life this is his tragedy
Pull the curtains down and stumble to the exit
She deserves a lead role not just a small part
And the fool's laugh echoes through the stone yard
