The wind that day
made hairy spray of the horses tails
and drove them along.

By night we were hungry.

On reaching the Inn
was offered a bed of swan's down to
pillow my wearisome day.

And slept like a baby.

While my brothers
went wenching I stayed close by the
Hostelry's turreted home.

Used to being alone.

Next morning I woke
to breakfast off salmon served fresh
in a bowl of old pewter.

Boatmen kept me amused.

From the casement
they looked like cushioned swans all
ready and pilgrim-waiting.

******* to their labour.

Ladies and maids ferried
to market left men squatting on boat
bottoms until their return .

All day I went wordless.

Night had fallen when
I heard noisy returns and asked for
the latest Armada news.

But it was refused.

I was so thankful
my lively un-born was not yet ready
to greet times of war.

I fastened my door.

Elizabeth's glory was
not yet to its end for she as our Queen
still ruled the year 1558.

I prayed for long reign.

Fatherless but not
unprotected my baby would savour
her grace.

I knew I was favoured.

The mother-of-storms
had passed when we set on our way
again to the Queen's Court.

Ladies in Waiting never falter.