Tuesday, 7 March 2017


The King’s Mistress 

Genesis 20:12
…she really is my sister, 
the daughter of my father 
though not of my mother; 
and she became my wife.

Handed over, I laughed at my power.

I am the one who has trapsed across the countryside,
In giant pilgrimage,
Making supper while he builds drystone cairns
to mark our passage.

I am the one who laughed at angels,
Disbelieving or mocking at the joke
It matters not.
Labeled as barren, men think it’s a miracle
But just maybe, it takes two to tango…
If he had paid as much attention
to me as to those rocks…
But – ah – is the miracle for him or for me?

He thinks so much of the promise
That I shall be labeled “sister” by his word?
And what of my good name?
And what of the honour God has promised me?
Perhaps, I get with child by Abimalech?
Not to be dishonoured, but cleaned of neglect!

My power is not in my name, but in my womb.
And so I laugh, for nations will forget their Mother.


(C) 2017, A.Koh-Butler

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for visiting, I look forward to hearing from you.
When making a comment, please remember this is a site frequented by young people and those who may not be up with your jargon.