Queen without a CROWN

The thing to cling to is the sense of expectation.
Who knows what may occur in the next breath?
In the pallor of another morning we neither
Anticipated nor wanted! Eve, waken to flowers
Unforeseen, from someone you don’t even know.
Azalea or cyclamen ... we live in wonder,
Blaze in a cycle of passion and apprehension
Though once we lay and waited for a death.