At first I was amused

At first I was amused.

Mystic visitors, I was told,

Bringing offerings.

At last, I thought,

my fame had spread.

Amusement though

Was short-lived

Rapidly replaced

By rage

At some upstart

Wanting to steal

My throne.

No understanding

Of the pressures

I had endured

To fight my way

Through prejudice

At my half-caste nature

To the precarious crown.

White-hot anger

Seared my very soul

Robbing me of sleep

And the occasional glimpses of peace

I had all-too rarely seen.

I sensed

I would never know rest again.

Something slightly different today…

Poem by Jeannie Kendall, reproduced with permission