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"Papyrus, Lapis Lazuli and the Valley of the Kings - Part 2"

Rush...
the sound of the wind 
licks her ears, bites her neck, stings her lips
the deep heat caresses her hips 
brandishes, burns into her skin
travels around her without and within
Materialising into radiant light
where whites are whiter than white
above her spectacularly clear blue, brighter than bright
she peers down at her arms and her feet
no longer pale, she’s burnished coffee gold deep
a man’s hands, holding a mirror up to her, 
a highly polished bronze metal disc reflector
returns a strange face,
who is this that leers back, this unknown manifestation, is it her?
Emerald green now replaced with liquorice obsidian twinkle
outlined in thick Kohl, there is something mysterious
sultry exotic, peering back, her contemplation
magnetic hypnotic hiding under blunt fringe
the colour Squid Ink Midnight Indigo Crushed Blueberry Black 
Red Ochre Henna cheeks bee-stung lips, 
glued to the spot, in shock, she’s transfixed.
“Amun-Ra will be pleased by the good grace of Goddess Hathor, 
you have received her ample blessings today” he announces,
closing the door, he returns back to her sitting out in the Sun.
He replaces the head-dress of Hemet-Netjer a party disguise
with another more regal, fit for a King.
This is “Her”.
“Where am I”, she asks perplexed, truly confounded.
 He stands back, he frowns, he thinks to himself, 
“By mercy of all of the good gods and the stars, 
this time she has gone way too far!! She’s had too much Sun!
She’s had too much Moon! The Lotus Blossom wine’s gone to her head!” 
and he pauses for emphasis, 
then deciding to put her out of her misery,
he answers her swoon -

“Why the Great Temple of Karnak, 
the great place of creation where Amun-Ra 
made the first mound of earth rise from the Nun,” 
he pauses with skilled trepidation, 
“dear Gods Wife of Amun.”

All too much to bare, she stares back and enquires,
“What’s my name again? I must have a fever, I feel I’m on fire?”
No wonder he thinks, it was quite a wild night 
all that ceremonial sacred lake dipping with High Priests,
then off to a dark corner with Senenmut, 
their bodies glistening, alight
cavorting entranced round the Sacrificial platform
seductive oils Frankincense, Patchouli and Myrrh.
“It’s left her all giddy and tripping,no wonder!” he thinks,
ponders further
“You do this while the Pharoah lies dying,what a disgrace.tut-tut!” 
and goes onto deliver his partisan knowledge to her, 
humbly bowing, 

“Your name, dear Gods Wife of Amun,
 is 
HATSHEPSUT”

(Lovejoy-Burton/2017)

1. http://dangerouswomenproject.org/2016/10/01/hatshepsut/
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