its now apparent
there is in my midst
one who seeks to usurp
a throne built with my own two hands

not to rest comfortably between
inlaid and intricately carved clawed feet
but to see it empty
for nothing more than the sake of watered down bloodline

yet calmly i tap toe
half impatient and watching
as a small axe hacks away a mighty oak
but not the roots

of the next growth
boughs spring forth more mighty
than the last
from which to fashion not one more but two replacements,
imperial palisades and a porch for a palace,
rocking chairs with armrests,
a mantel and mirror frame

so that we
my queen and i
can be seen together
as we should be
with no hovering specters