Tonight's Poet Corner: The Woman In Golden Armor
The Woman In Golden Armor by Belinda Roddie She slides to one knee, the woman in golden armor, and lifts the pointed helmet from her thatch of cropped hair, kissing its wet metal nose before placing it on top of her daughter's dark curls. She retrieves her sword from the red puddle, and cleaning it briskly against the dry grass, she returns it to the scabbard hugging her plated hip, the gleam of melted glory hiding her battered, yet beautiful, black skin. The daughter is a knight now, on the island they call California, and the queen waits for her greatest warriors to arrive in swarms of sun-catching oro at the temple of Allah. The red lips are expected to part and reveal smiling teeth, as the continual preservation of Her Highness's domain remains pristine. No conversion. The legions of Calafía are hidden from the scholars and cartographers of the Old World, fictionalized into cheap Christian symbolism, offering very little in terms of the true power