Queen Zoe’s Plethora of Grace
by Paulette Demers Turco

Most claimed she had no secrets, listened best—
attentive, gracious, even as a girl—
kind and blushing. Easy smile. A pearl.
Those who met her, knew her, will attest.

Found in her Villa’s fragrant garden, clutching
A dozen yellow miniature roses, her head
pressed into the rich dark earth, it’s said
that horror, grief reverberated, touching

Every woman, man throughout the land—
except her murderer who must have fled.
Children gathered heather clusters, led
The long processions celebrating grand

beliefs in their beloved queen. She’d not
have need or room for hating in her heart.



 

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