—The Eclectic Muse, Volume 16, Christmas 2010, page 35
Queen Nefertiti knelt before
The ancient pantheon
And asked them how she might restore
Some peace. From the sun
She heard a laugh, but never her reply.
She spoke again, again
A silence followed from the sky,
And snickers from the sun.
The God-Wife whined, Oh Aten speak
And tell me why you mock.
Because, he said, you’ve come to seek
Advice from an angry flock.
You stilled the gods and all their priests,
And far away new walls
Were raised for your careless arriviste.
To top it off you had the balls
To call me God, and forced your claim
Onto the populace.
The Queen was quiet for a time,
Then moaned, I must confess
It’s true. I guess I’ll stick with you.
The sun disc cried, he laughed
So hard, and said, It’s best you go
Before I’m full of wrath.
You gave me fame and preached my ring,
Then left me to your slaves.
You killed my priest (your bed, their king),
And sealed him in those graves.
So don’t expect my constancy,
I won’t forgive your ways.
And when your dead some petty thieves
Will beat your pretty face.