She's washing dishes in the sink
where soapy bubbles float.
Her rubber gloves are edged in mink
and ermine trimmed her coat.
Her crown is tidily packed away
Her cloth of gold removed.
Though all alone she feels so gay
Her temper much improved.
Her burdens still a heavy one
For she struggles with her duty,
Sometimes she feels so put upon
She feels she wants to mutiny.
But what you see is all so calm, so beautifully serene
They don't know how hard it is being the bloody queen.
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Comments about this poem (Blue Monarch by Babbling Brookes )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(April 13,1939 - August 30, 2013)
(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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