MUSICAL Poetry: YOUNG JANE SEYMOUR, by Maya Vanleeuwaarde

Isn’t he embarrassed by his newest bride?
His last at the Green Tower, waiting to die
A confidant, a cousin, beheaded for death
Her body laid to rest alongside baby’s breath
Take that as a sign, young Jane Seymour
Take comfort in anything shiny you adore
Your days will be lonely and your nights his
Until the dawn a baby grows and metabolizes
Finally giving this vile man what he wants
Decades of desire, monarchy and its taunts
Someone indebted forever to him, a citizen
Raised on gold, structure, and discipline
You’ve become a vessel for the perfect son
A young heir with two marriages undone
The perfect successor of a man so crass
Stuck in a round room of venetian glass
Lapis lazuli, gold, silk threads, and linen
Dressed in all purple, a Tudor era villain

Author: poetryfest

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