She was a queen with silver sleeves and ermine, And she wandered in the stately castle-wood, She was a dryad and a forest-shadow, -- Lovely, not good. She was delicate and fine and haughty, She hated ceremonies and she hated things, She was a thread of pale-curbed passion, -- She was the King's. The wood re-echoed to her mocking laughter, She struck her maid and kissed her falcon's head; "Oh, I am sick of courtiers and of manners God knows!" she said. "May the King perish on his latest hunting, The castle burn, the banners cease to flaunt, Courts choke to death and vanish. A butcher Is what I want." * * * * * * * * A poacher strode thro the castle-wood, He was a thick-necked bully and a liar . . . The queen with silver sleeves laughed gently; -- Her eyes were fire. "Hither, lout, and cease your clumsy kneeling, I am done with courts and all the silly play, Stop your staring and your stupid smirking . . . Take me away. The yokel took her. Many years have passed them. He is still a savage, huge, unspent; He hates this life with her he cannot fathom . . . -- She is content! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWILIGHT COMES by HAYDEN CARRUTH SYNOPSIS OF A FAILED POEM by JAMES GALVIN JOY (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SONNET TO THOSE WHO SEE BUT DARKLY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SYMPATHY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |