Hail the Queen
The Queen Bee prances into the bedroom,
tail swishing, paws padding lightly,
her true agenda of making her presence known a mystery
to the dog,
but not to me.
She bounds to her throne of choice—
the wooden chest in the corner.
Attitude gushes from her as she meows loudly
to the shivering, angry Chihuahua lying on the bed.
The Queen now aware only of herself
busily licks her silky, long white hair
for the audience of two to be in awe
of how the light streaming through the window
reflects in her eyes.
And through the mirror we see
an image of beauty.
Looking around, stretching gracefully,
the Queen pauses.
One last look for us to see
and be entranced
before boredom takes its toll,
and the majestic option becomes clear,
the royal treatment reserved for the Queen.