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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "The Boadicea Blood Cup" Didst thou think? Didst thou? Didst thou think, at all? That thou would remain untouched, unchecked, unscathed Safely locked up away from mine wrath and thee, thy self-made grave? Imprisoned in your Dark Lost Woods of evil pungent sulphuric devil greens, Speaking like an uncast angel in soft tongue who could do no evil nor speak no wrong In the company of skulking spineless serpents slithering forever cursed un-named forlorn? Guarded ferociously by that rabid dog, thy gormless sibling, thy reckless servant and her preening false prerogatives - so vain, so arrogantly reeking the smell under her cur-like nose and feet, her overblown ego and unanimous disdain? Didst thou sibling think? Didst thou sibling think, at all? That by thoughtless folly, abducting mine own White Queen’s world, mine own Royal Swan Child, the then recalcitrant girl – thou wouldst covet mine own Cygnet to thine own sour, shrivelled milkless teat to suckle In your barren, childless, soulless world? Then, thee darkly re-coursed to read falsehood fables to mine own World As above, So below, full Circle of Eternity You thought to close the portal ‘tween Cygnet and White Queen Betrayal’s in thy blood a bonded evil duo Deceipt and lies make a bed of thorny lying thistles Together in thy Assassins Bureau Truth the soul, is branded in the heart of the White Queen LUX VITAE pumping through her veins She quietly and ever powerfully summons The Army of Me and Reigns in the strongest spirits from her cerebral Heaven She castes her spells with Sword of Truth, raises to her God her Chalice Places a hex on your dreams, cuts your Morpheus off with her Athame Whispering incantations of darkest obsidian and midnight blues She drinks the Blood Cup her final Quest, her ardent panacea She sleeps alone with misanthropic glee and dreams of slaying the dreaded Jabberwocky and The gormless passive Red Witch Queen Our Lionhearted White Queen is now Brave Boadicea Somewhere in a lonely tower Royal Swan Child hears Boadicea’s song upon the winds and lobbies In a strange bland place of political renown, there’s something in the sound - A voice so distantly familiar, from somewhere deep inside her heart-strings she remembers that voice that sings The child, now a young woman, understands the state of things The signet ring means nothing. Latin written in a stirling silver locket that she’s broken, holds the key, holds every lesson to be learnt True meaning of this time of vacant hurt. The lost locket contains the spell which will bring her Home For through these words in Silver Heart that’s closed The rightful Queen will find her mother’s gift to her A victory never thought, nor seen, ignored and never dreamed Her never ending Freedom Powers Cygnet is True Queen. (Lovejoy-Burton/March 2018) For my beloved daughter, Georgia. "Nothing will keep a mother from her child, not even death." Leanne Lovejoy-Burton, WRITER.
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