Teddy Bear Queen 

"Pearls sent streaming after her into heaven,

After our Lady who died in Ephesus!

Deep blue choral beads, too, round her wrists, seven

For each joy she brought to James and Jesus.

Her mountain hovel's a stone's throw from Dian

In the marshes, at Ephesus; not Judaea--

And John's buried, His favourite, under 'talian

Marble, grey-veined, near the apse: eh, Lucia?"

Some such account, 'twixt dad and daughter, took place,

On Assumption feast, in the glare of an August day.

Funny all this talk of Queens without a trace

Should lead to crumbling temples in same old way:

"Which of the two great Absences would you choose,

My Lucia: silted bays of Huntress; or white bones of Mother?

Better role model--the moon's clear Muse,

Gaming through woods, or God's great female Other?"

Being motherless herself, my Lucia, whom I've dubbed,

At birth, my Teddy Bear Queen, prays then cries.

The choice she's made is clear: and that's why I've loved

The no more dazzling than endearing way she replies.

©2007 Conrad DiDiodato