King James Vi Poem by Sheena Blackhall

James VI
A dysfunctional family set up by any standards.
His parents were cousins. His father, Henry
Had his mother's secretary murdered before her eyes
While she was pregnant with the future king.
The ultimate work of villainy

His father, in turn was murdered,
By his mother's lover, it is known
Like something out of a Gothic Horror movie
Her son into this tainted soil was sown

He suffered from rickets, it is likely
He didn't walk till he was five,
And then, unsteadily.

His tongue was too large for his mouth
So he slobbered and drooled when eating
This so-called ‘Wisest Fool in Christendom'
Who tried to oversee Popery's unseating

His favourite hunt was dogging those he hated
Loved witnessing the torturing of witches
Enjoyed the persecution he instigated

Bear baiting, cock fights also took his taste
And pretty boys, and jewels.
His queen by contrast was both loyal and chaste

Men said he stank, was lousy, lazy too
In keeping with unsanitary times, nothing exceptional
Few plaudits drew

Guy Fawkes failed to unseat him,
Leaving his death to disease, the relentless hunter
To crumble with time, like a ruin, torn asunder

Arthritis, kidney stones, surfeit of drink, and gout
The coup de grace, a stroke. So, he expired

Perhaps the axe that took his mother's life
Was cleaner, quicker, more to be desired