The Tale of the Albino Queen
The Albino Queen, lived in a dream,
Isolated in the inbetween.
Her hair was white and skin so pale;
A ghost or conjuration of a fairy tale.
She had once been married, wife to the Sun,
But his violent temper had made her run.
Forced to flee from her previous lover,
To the trees and moon the Queen looked for cover.
In a palace of rock she would stay
To avoid the heat and light of day.
Up and down a path made of stone,
She wandered between the sea and her throne.
Free at night to breathe nocturnal fresh air,
She would bathe her pale body and silvery hair.
From this shadow she ruled her isle,
And was content for a good while.
She created her own light indoors when alone;
Her palace became glittered with mosaic and stone.
Every night in her chapel she would pray before bed,
To see daylight again before she was dead.
The Queen’s every wish was seen by the moon
Who, from sunset to sunrise, would comfort her, cradle and croon.
To show the Queen the strength of his affection,
The moon created a magical oil of protection.
From starlight and pearls he made up a balm,
That when rubbed on, would prevent the Sun’s harm.
The Queen rubbed the balm on before each sun rise,
And for the first time in years could bask in blue skies.
The moon advised it wouldn’t last long
As the Sun’s anger was far too strong.
The Queen soon forgot what the moon had said,
And one afternoon the Sun turned her red.
No longer pearly, with white tender skin
Her islanders mutinied, accused her of sin.
Without the cover of her shadowy home,
In daylight the Sun’s heat reduced her to bone.
In sadness the moon sobbed silvery tears
That flooded the isle, concealed it for years.
For centuries submerged the isle was left to decay,
Its beauty was washed almost completely away.
Realising that is wasn’t the islanders, but the Sun to blame,
The Moon released the Isle to reestablish the Queen’s name.
Even today the Turkish Isle you can behold,
And in it’s remains the Queen’s story is told.
