Portrait for a Queen

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Dan Jordan

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I woke up one late autumn morn
To a knocking at my door
And a man dressed in importance
Well he handed me a scroll
The writing was of elegance
The paper smooth and fine 
As I read it over 
In my mind

It read, dear sir
Your work is world renown
I wish for you to paint for me
A veil for this land
As I read to the bottom
In the final line she wrote
My people they wouldn't
Understand

So I packed my paints and grabbed my hat
And I was on my way
Thoughts were running through my head
What am I to say?
The palace was the grandest place
That I had ever seen
As I went to paint
A portrait for the Queen

I was lead into the palace hall
Where my lady sat
I lowered my eyes to the floor
As I took off my soaked hat
Not a word was spoken
Just a whisper of a sigh
As I glanced up
To meet her eye

My Queen was dressed in robes of red
And the glitter of gold was immense
But instead of renowned beauty I saw a fading smile
Held up by a frail and heavy heart

As I placed brush to canvas
I could not steady my hand
And as the hours fleeted
I began to understand
Every brushstroke revealed a sorrow
That I could not disguise
No matter how hard
I tried

In her face I could paint
All her hopes and fears
And in her eyes a fire, long since tamed
By her tears
There is nothing so bitter
Than to now accept her fate
As by the morning would
Be too late

My Queen was dressed in robes of red
And the glitter of gold was immense
But instead of renowned beauty I saw a fading smile
Held up by a frail and heavy heart

My Queen was dressed in robes of red
And the glitter of gold was immense
But instead of renowned beauty I saw a fading smile
Held up by a frail and heavy heart

Now there will come a time
So I knew what I had to do
For the sake of a land where
Majesty once did rule
When they come to her in desperate need
For wisdom and a prayer 
But my lady, she
No longer will be there

Though she will be missed
But no more must she wait
On the dying and the desperate cries 
For a kind ear to elate
Instead there is talk 
Of a painting that is hung
To lift this burden long after 
We are gone

My Queen was dressed in robes of red
And the glitter of gold was immense
But instead of renowned beauty I saw a fading smile
Held up by a frail and heavy heart

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