She was industrious
for one of her elevated station,
not above scavenging
for her own building materials.
‘Well, you have to, ’ she might have said,
‘at least at the outset,
‘before the real workers get started.’
I, however, no respecter of rank,
would have none of her,
and hit her with my latest work.
Ah well, one less wasp nest this summer.
Her epitaph – “Here lies a Queen,
killed by Poetry.”
Paul Hansford
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-of-a-queen/
