Khirsten Grenville of Devon

All know -- "Sic transit gloria mundi."
For Khirsten's fame is bare as winter's tree.
Her name once clothed in royal heraldry
Is lost except in whispered poetry.

With pompous words, Khirsten did we install
As her Atlantian prince's ornament.
No word she spoke. As pretty as a doll
She smiled and sat on lofty pediment.

Above the throng, on velvet cushions deep,
Her station high was naught but sour pain.
How wrong that rite that made sweet Khirsten weep!
She cried and sought to end her lengthy reign.

She's left us now. Poor Khirsten's but a ghost.
Her laugh and smile I will remember most.