A King's Love
Dressed in a red petticoat
And grey damask gown
Trimmed with fur
She walked to the scaffold
Recalling her king’s love
Denying charges against her
Thinking of her daughter
She knelt upright and prayed
The swordsman sliced her head
From her thin neck
But there was no coffin, no funeral
No grieving husband’s tears
A workman gathered her remains
Placed them in an arrow chest
And the queen was buried
In an unmarked grave.
Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII
Jack Horne for Nette’s Soul Partners contest
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