the sculptors agreed with the pharaoh,
the bump in her nose, shaved it smooth
as it should have been all along,
for she was beautiful,
said the pharaoh,
only, they said to each other,
hands in plaster,
The pharaoh looked
at the sculptor's beautiful Nefertiti,
It was not her, but
he could not say,
his finger on her chin, straying,
what made him think
she was not his wife at all.
I wrote this poem while working on a paper for a class in Ancient Egyptian history. I thought of it again because my son is reading Magic Tree House 3: Mummies in the Morning.
Anyway, I would appreciate any comments people have, and I do not mind if the poem is shared with others so long as the fact that it belongs to someone else, namely me, is clearly expressed.