I am the woman that walks with a sway, don’t try to figure me out, so beautifully and wonderfully made.
Like a moth, you try to catch my flame, enthralled by my essence, my beauty, resilience, I feel no shame.
Selectively chosen, sinfully described, poetically written, a seductive prize.
I fight, I laugh, I sing, I play. But I still have time to love my king in every way.
Never the usual, confusing to all the rest.
But it is my king that can take on this queen, and make me surrender. There is no contest.
No one can catch my eye the way that he can.
He walks in dominance… damn…what a man.
All others pale in comparison, my hips swaying to a music they will never hear.
But my king knows my song. Every lyric, rising and falling, directed, no strings attached. He is the puppeteer.
I am the woman with the crown of gold. Dancing out of reach to those that will never know.
But my king draws me to his symphony.
Wherever he leads, always I will follow.
( I am his Queen: A poem of Love, Loyalty, and Sacrifice)
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