The Tower part III ( The Florophant)

In the Tower of the Florophant 
Orchids move with languid grace. 
The thorny duchess in her perianth
Is sitting there without a face 
And looking down from a wide rimed velvet crown
On a scarlet purple gown rich as blood.

She won't hesitate to end the life
Of anyone who spoils the scene.
All is fragrant and agreeable
In her fluorocarbon dream
The curtains breath and the rhododendrons tease
Moving slowly in the breeze of her breath.