Jezreel (2 Kings 9)
Queen Jezebel hung over
Her tired, tired head;
Her lips were red with beetles’ blood;
Her eyes were lapped in lead.
A-pounding through the courtyard,
Exactly as she’d feared,
Came Jehu with his big black flag,
Matching his big black beard.
Queen Jezz leaned out the window;
She cooed in acid tones:
“And how is Mr. Zimri, since
The Persians sent the drones?”
Jehu raised his flag on high,
Cried “Who is for me, who?”
And up sprang mobs of angry kids,
And certain eunuchs too.
They howled at blowsy J-bel
In her see-through Persian gown;
And Jehu hollered: “Throw her down!”
And someone threw her down.
So flags and beards blazed nationwide,
Completing Jehu’s task;
But how the whole thing ended – that
Depends on whom you ask;
For there’s a limit as to what
The Persians choose to bear;
And some say they are on their way:
Their boots are in the air,
Which shortly will be buzzing with
Their patched-up favourite’s voice.
For Jezebel or Jehu – that’s
Our God-Almighty choice.
If you have any
thoughts on this poem, Julia Griffin would be pleased to hear them.