She sat high on the hill waiting for the battle
In leather and lace she watched the enemy herded like cattle,
Moving forward with eyes of blood lust
But in their warrior Queen her army had trust,
It’s not a battle she wanted or needed
But the enemy King would heed this,
He wanted to conquer and spoil what she had built
But that was not going to happen so blood would be spilt,
And as the sun rose behind her, blinding the enemy
She pointed her sword forward and her archers opened up silently,
Then her foot soldiers ran down the hillside, quiet
As did she and her calvery,
And the only sounds that could be heard are the cries of the enemy
Slaughtered and butchered by an unseen army,
They were out flanked from two sides and treated brutally,
Contrary to the way she treated her own
With compassion, love and the philosophy of sharing with all equally,
But this King and his army were a threat to that
So she had no other alternative but to act and attack,
She now had the King encircled in a ring
And he laughed and said,’well pretty little Queen, what is next’,
She said ‘I guess I sever your head from your neck’,
And the King how he laughed and mocked her as too weak
Then with a wave of her sword and in a forceful sweep,
His head flew off towards her men
And she watched knowing he would never mock or trouble her again,
And she and her army buried every one of them
Deep within this hillside fenn, never to be heard of again.
fauxcroft 