I continue to play with the enticing anagrams that brilliant writer Max Meunier made of my name.
i sat in cherry
upon the hand carved
throne of ivory bone
in the empty room
of chiseled stone
with its vaulted ceilings
that echo with the silence
black and white diamond tiles
patterning the floor
no woven tapestries
of virgins fair or unicorns
to soften the harsh space
the cold is bitter chill
seeps into my bones
my breath a frozen mist
frost licking at the
leaded windows
in this frozen dream
no servants to wait upon my word
no court in my thrall
a queen of nothing
of no one
not even myself
to command
I long to return to a
richer sanity
Brave & Reckless 
Love this! 💙
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Thank you Phoebe! The anagram “i sat in cherry” immediately made me think of the queen of hearts.
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I love this CRay well done
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I thought it was pretty damn good for a poem written with a migraine!
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Hellyeah
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Max had no idea what he unleashed with the word play on our names. Of course, this is Max– maybe he did!
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