The Gilded Throne

One of Three

Part I - The Gilded Throne

By Colton Warr

She moves in robes of silver light,
Upon a marble chair of stone,
Her crown ablaze with borrowed bright,
A kingdom rising at her throne.

In rivers spun of molten gold,
She walks with effortless grace,
Each whispered tale of splendor told
Reflected in her lifted face.

Her diamonds catch the courtly shine,
Like constellations in the air,
Each jewel declares her form divine,
A holy and sacred affair.

Her bracelets teem with polished gleam,
Her scepter raised above,
The court bows low as if in dream,
Enchanted by her love.

In velvet halls she floods the sight,
in silk and satin sway,
A comet blazing through the night,
And brighter still than day.

Her rings proclaim on soft hands
A lineage wrapped in flame,
Bright relics forged in distant lands
That murmur out her name.

Each golden chain about her grand
And heavy-braided art,
Declares the power in her stand,
Yet cannot hold her heart.

And though I watch the courtly sea
Rise faithful to her throne,
The greatest jewel I ever see
Is something all her own….

Author's Note

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