Blackberry Queen

I am a

strange queen
in a blackberry
robe torn
by thorns.

my hair
and I am
by the setting sun
in a tree throne.

Laughing light
dances on
the river
no rich man
could buy.

I am charmed
by wildflowers
growing unlooked for
between trees
and I reject
the colors
of court.

They say
I am a
without her

but I am your queen,

and if all the land
were dry
I would make
it rain.

This poem is in honour of the Glynn Queen series- I have read Queen of the Tearling and The Invasion of the Tearling by Erika Johansen and thoroughly enjoyed them.

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