Primrose

I once met a girl which had more

A survivor of many a great war

Born under the Aquarian moon

Introvert, but empathically in tune

She even had her own Etsy store.

Every where she goes, magic follows

She's more magical than the hallows

Pure freedom is what she enjoys

Divination is what she employs

Her oracle rivals that of Apollo's

She is masterful in astrology

But enough of the biography

Our story begins with chance

On the bloody shores of France

War, spies, and cryptography

As our boats landed at Normandy

Walking, a lady, fine and dandy

It happened fast and with a blur.

Bullets just seemed to avoid her

Her scent was of cotton candy

She preferred peace over war

But came were the horsemen of 4

She, then, chose the Allies' side

To end the Axis' unbridled pride

But she gave so very much more

As my men became discouraged

Her fearlessness encouraged

As the bullets dropped the men

She protected again and again

And their wounds she nourished

The Axis demonized her the sea witch

But healing was her god given niche;

A gift from the her goddess Brighid.

Her healing felt like an autumn breeze

Cooling and calming with every stitch

Goldenrod for the inflammation

Yarrow for burning sensation

Calendula to increase blood flow

All plants that she would grow

In preparation for this damnation

Before the war, years numbering five

To her a vision from Brighid did arrive

preparing her for what was to come

Requiring one with a green thumb

To keep freedom and liberty alive

Thus the oracle of Ireland arose

And looked upwards to the cosmos

It was her alone that turned the tide

And the Axis powers we finally denied

Coincidentally, her name was Primrose.