The White Queen: A Poetry Collection

The Storyteller

The time for tales is once again near.

Let all who listen gather here

So I can tell of the royal White Queen

And the greatest of horrors that my own eyes have seen.


It all began one fine spring night,

When sparrows grazed the sky, cool and bright.

Little did I know, people dared to conspire

To deprive the White Queen of her life in ire.


A royal cook, who in jealousy bathed

Said “A drop of death will kill unscathed,

“I’ve seen more gold in days of old,

This kingdom needs a ruler smart, brash, and bold.”


And so she lurked in the night’s thick dark,

For the White Queen’s soul, she closely harked.

“I see no fate, for her, it’s too late,

The White Queen’s spirit will see where Hell awaits.”


So through the castle’s corridors, she crept

And saw the room where the White Queen slept.

“I’ll leave her this drink, she won’t even think

And her life will seep away before her eyes even blink.”


If only she knew her plan was foiled

By a man overwhelmed by trouble and toil.

“I’m drowning in a lake of self-satisfied pride

I’ll end all my problems with poison suicide.”


So the wine of death and wrath he drank

Little knowing the White Queen would owe him thanks.

It was the cook to who the clues had led,

And the White Queen was saved as the cook lost her head.


The White Queen for her life rejoiced,

But gratitude for the dead she gave no voice.

For he who died, she showed no care

For he who didn’t let touch a single hair.


For those of you who wisdom bear,

You’ll see the hidden meaning there:

As the White Queen is a stale-gone love

That doesn’t thank and escapes to the Earth above.