Good day gentle soul; salutations from my handsome marquee.
I am the Queen that stands before you peasant, but I bear an terrible envy:
For in the fields and in the hovels at night laughter does spill,
My mind is filled with evils and the spirits wish upon me ill: ill will.
I am wroth, I am pride, I possess all but this delight;
So filled with desire am I possessed by spite; this night.
I will bring upon wrath and storm, rain and cloud;
Turn your gaze if be thy proud; for tonight my hatred will be not cowed.
Words and pics: ©DJA 2016.