Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn

English: Henry VIII and his second wife, Anne ...

English: Henry VIII and his second wife, Anne Boleyn. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

My lady our love is now
The blackest rose
And wherefore now these tidings
Do I suppose
Arose from bloodied rituals
The ones I chose?

Where once my love for you
A flame, a joy apart
A treasure of great promise
To my weary heart
Now sympathy turns treachery
And must depart

You promised me a son and promised
Love so true
Your mystery and charms beguiled
And lured me through
Yet failing in your vows must mean
The end of you

My lady once I drank upon
Your wit and charm
I raised you from obscurity
To be upon my arm
But history may yet reveal
I did you harm

Your neck is tiny as you say
The blade is keen
The drums will play their sombre beat
As go-betweens
But dare I linger here to see
This fallen queen?

My lady our love is now
The blackest rose
My sonnet pales to nothing
And bereft this prose
I have no store of sympathy
My heart is closed

(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved

About Helen

I'm drawn to blogging as a way to share ideas and consider what makes us who we are. Whether it's in our working life or our creativity, expression is a means to connect.
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6 Responses to Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn

  1. ksbeth says:

    Beautifully tragic

  2. Advisor says:

    wow just wow, i have been clinging to the idea i could express this masterpiece of their story in my own poetric verse since season 2 o the tudors. I feel you have done it enough justice for us both. BRAVO!!!

  3. Pingback: Henry’s Holy Grail | whatamitodo

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