My queens are NOT dead
A poem to celebrate women
The Queen is dead
‘Their’ queen, not ‘my’ queen.
My queens are NOT dead.
.
My queen does not require addressing with some fancy title.
Just her name will do.
She expects no bow or curtsy.
But greets you with a hug, kiss or flowers …..and always, a massive smile.
My queens are NOT dead.
.
My queen treats people fairly,
She intervenes when there is injustice.
She’s got your back and will fight like a dog for you.
My queens are NOT dead.
.
My queen cares not about the family you were born into.
But rather, the person you are right now.
She has no interest in the dark places you may have visited.
Her only focus is on where you’re going and how she can help you get there.
My queens are NOT dead.
.
My queen does not see animals as entertainment, sport or investments.
Only companions.
She shares what she has.
Whether it’s her last few coins so we can grab coffee, or her problems.
She cares not for banquets.
Only that everyone is fed.
My queens are NOT dead.
.
My queen places no value in jewels or precious metals.
Instead, she treasures the dew on a spider’s web and revels in the gold of a sunrise
My queen takes no pleasure in palaces, mansions and stately homes.
She dreams of a camper van or shack in the woods.
She has no interest in government or protocol.
For she herself, is ruled by a change in wind, a full bellied moon or the crash of a thunderstorm.
My queens are NOT dead.
.
I know plenty of queens.
And so do you.
They live on, in a post school-run catch up, an unexpected card, a random text or radiant face that appears on your timeline when you most need it.
And above all, in the unexpected connections we make every single day with women we’ve never met.
The knowing look from a stranger who sees the tears well in your eyes when it’s all too much and smiles;
“I’ve been there”.
Our queens live on.
Let’s celebrate them.
Our queens are alive.
Our queens are NOT dead.
PS: If you enjoyed this, you may also like this post.
Beautiful. I absolutely love this. An inspiring diversion from the other hypocrisy. You are one of our queens Julie that’s a fact.
It was really nice to read this poem of contrary affirmation again this morning. My Queen is not dead either.