Entombed in my bridal chamber,
Now my son’s ambition has vaulted
To sting my husband’s pride.
These castle walls are my prison,
And I can only recollect the times,
I gazed over the fields of Aquitaine.
Green upon green meeting the horizon,
Fish-full, viridian rivers, and verdant
Forests, alive with boar and venison.
With all the wealth and power it brings,
I still needed a husband to protect me.
I bore eight children, and your philandering.
But, my fortress is within. Built of sinew
And nerve to develop trade agreements,
With Constantinople and the holy lands.
Potent courage rode with me to the Crusades.
Quick wit and intellect suffuse my bones,
And my daily prayers and readings nourish
My mind and marrow, and save me for tomorrow,
For the days, when I shall reign again. Eleanor,
By the Grace of God, Queen of England.
I need neither man nor glass to witness the noble
Countenance, the admired golden curls and almond eyes.
I know it is the lionheart that beats beneath,
The soul that dances strong and free
That makes me more than beautiful.
Mungrisdale Writers 