Empress

Emma wore a silk red cloak as she

watched the battered body of her sultan husband,

of Viking folk, burn atop the rippling currents.

The jewel encrusted crown dug deep between

the wavey strokes of her obsidian hair

while she reflected on her ascent to

Queen of Wessex, from a slaving servant.

Her eyes shone no tears as they soaked in the smoke

which plumed from the drifting vessel of wood and flesh,

for she was envisioning a kingdom of her own that stretched

from the shores of England to the mangrove forests of Bangladesh