Bon Appetit

The White Queen: A Poetry Collection

The Storyteller

The cook serves food

To one and all

Who venture through the castle


One fateful night

Came through a maiden

Who did not leave her sight


The cook was drawn 

Right to this maiden

As she danced the night away


With two left feet 

She tried to fit in

Among the royal dancers


Her hair

It shined

It flowed and curled

Pulling the cook further in


Her lack of grace 

Her clumsiness

Spun the cook into a web


This is the tale

Of a girl

A girl who stole a heart


She flirted and smirked 

To all around

Somehow maintaining a striking composure


The cook decided to take her hand

To keep the maiden close

She kept her safe, all in good faith

As the ball began to fade


Her heart was true

Her soul was too

As she led the girl away


At once she stood

“This is too new,

I can’t live without a crown”


This is a tale

Of the girl 

Who stole a heart

And almost made a cook steal the crown