Conversing With Elizabeth I by Tina Hacker

I’ve heard your voice for decades from the throat of history, but I never knew if you heard mine. I’ve wondered if ghosts at Windsor Castle listened to you laugh and sing. You loved songs, especially those composed by your father. Many said you could leap higher than anyone when you danced. As lofty above the floor as above courtiers you teased. I’ve read countless books about you, begged you to reveal the reality behind the words. We’ve smiled like twins when scholars absolved your mother. Smirked when authors applied poultices to your reign. Are you still listening to me now or am I mad as I continue tossing my life your way?

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