My dearest Queen Elizabeth;
This day is June 21,1602.……….Ancient voices call in my visions….
Bound within thy palace walls, in a chantry pew
Vigilant eyes of Protestant misogyny are, at thee, glaring;
In attempts to tether thine heart with uni-god mendacities uttered in the evensong
Forced to sing matins; lauds of malcontent divinity
Entranced, thou dost subconsciously recall, within silent cerebral corners
Thine own Matriarchal line of libertines
Descended from The Boleyn Ladies, who’s deity is 3-fold
Seers of portents and sidereal charms, arboreal bound
Those prodigious Mothers who walked with Cerridwen
I am bound to thee by fealty of friendship and love
Not by fief-fear an’ sycophancies
In both realms, upon this plane, an’ in Avalon we meet
As I scry, we findeth bygone endeavours; archaic-toned
Discerning ’twixt these forgone lives and this one we can not
We are they, as they are us; timelessly
A Queen thou hast been sempiternally so
Goddess, Muse of The Matriarchal Code; unwavering
Theology of Love and erudite conjurings
I see within thy mind and heart my Lady
Thou dost recall Abydos and Sais and Cerne
Thou dost recall Eleusis and Dodona and Otygia
As a great seer, thou hast surely found remembrancers;
Of Brugh na Boine, and of Dalriada, and of Brigante’s Shrines (O! Queen Cartimandua)
Of Stone Dolmen Circles in Caledonia, Cambria, Eire, and of course at Salisbury’s lea
Thou hast seen visions of Scythia, Dacia, Lydia and Paphos Shrine (O! Aphrodite fair)
Thoughts of Lake Tritonis, Alexandria and The Mount Dicte (bless’d Rhea!)
Recalling thy Queendoms of Trees, devoid of paternalist stone walls
Upon the lea and in the wold, thou didst surely dance to rain songs (Gwynhwyfar’s tears)
Within the rill, thou didst swim with the Nereides
Enheduanna wast thy Sister, Inanna thy Mother
Please remember my Lady……………….my Queen………........................
……..
Thou hast vouched not any troth-plight in this lifetime
We both know why………..memories of Matriarchy
How couldst thee marry, in this neo-religion of gynopathy (we still weep for poor Mary)
The Higher-Self of thee, wouldst surely wither in tears
If thy true-self were fettered
Thou art strong, beauteous and brave My Lady…………mark me dear Queen…………..
Winds of change are coming My Queen
Parliamentarians will soon sack thy Royal Line
The Old Code will be quite lost to this upcoming age
Upon exit of this life, My Lady, do not forget……….
Findeth exile and solace in thy next incarnations; within the proletariat classes
It shalt be the only safe place for thy essence
Despair not My Queen, we will meet again
The course of sidereal measure and destiny
Shalt bringeth Gynarchy an’ balance to Earth once more
William The Poet will remember; This I presage;
An’ all versifiers of Bardic Faith shalt remember thee
……….Great Queen Elizabeth; The Last Goddess Queen
Steve Trimmer
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem