With much pomp and ceremony
She comes riding in,
Led by seven dark horses
Manes tossed about in strong winds of hurricane proportion,
Large teeth
Wild eyes
Frothing at the bit
To stomp and bite;
All white with slivers of grey and silver
Black around dark edges
Her plan was to conquer
And spread wet seeds across the land
Ensuring her peasants understand
That she,
Was the bearer of food
The bringer of life
The harbinger of any joy
And can still stir up strife,
With her flooding, and washing away of top soil
She’s the empress
Bow with respect
Let her lips touch your brow.
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© Ilis Trudie Palmer 2022
One Love