When we were children My sister and I rejected The role of princess. They were pretty but weak-- Always needing to be rescued! And we preferred the chiseled faces The greater command of queens. We stood on our beds at night, Wool blankets turned to velvet capes. And we declared our power In broad, silly proclamations Such as βQueen of the Dollsβ! Or Rulers of the Woods That stretched off to the east Of our little house, That became a castle Guarded by hooting owls and Baskerville hounds. Arms outstretched, our capes Made leaping sparks And we shouted in our glory. After tiring of commands We launched ourselves into the air And for a moment, ruled the earth, Suspended above our queendom Until we fell onto our beds And laughed with joy, For were we not landing On stacks of feathers, Piled high to avoid a pea, Laid there just for us?
Memories of fond, brief moments, when my sister and I were transcendent.