The Tale Of The White Queen

The White Queen: A Poetry Collection

The Storyteller

The White Queen sits on her bright golden throne,

Over the kingdom she calls her own.

Let the people come and all the bells ring

For it is time for me to tell about when I was king.


We were like two Junebugs on a fine summer’s night,

For hours we cuddled to our own delight.

Through night and plight, we laughed and cried,

And our love knew no divide.


The White Queen softly sang and walked,

She quelled the beasts of rage with her talk.

A soft, silky face with a fierce, fighting soul,

Always ready to fight but also to console.


With the finest hug and the softest kiss,

The White Queen sends to the highest bliss.

And there’ll be days that I’ll reminisce

How caring she was, never being remiss.


But one night, when I thought we’d be forevermore,

The White Queen says “I don’t love you anymore.”

For nights and days, in sorrow, I wept.

Did I not show love? Was I too inept?


But the White Queen, with her lasting grace,

Assured our closeness wouldn’t go misplaced.

And she handed me the Earth’s greatest honor,

Her friendship I can rely on for now and years yonder.


Now, with the White Queen’s new queen, dressed in silver and gold,

I wish for them both amazing days, greater than the days of old.

As for me, I learned that it’s not the end;

For I shall love the White Queen, not as a lover, but forever as a friend.