Dead Queen Greta's Charming Tour

In Bulgaria, they did not care
That she was dead

She was very upfront about it

If anyone had asked her--Are you living?

Queen Greta, also known as Greta the Always Honest
Would have replied--No, I'm afraid I'm not

Greta was known for many things

In addition to always being honest
She was also known as Greta the Trustworthy
Greta the Pretty But Not Too Pretty
Greta the Unoffensively Humorous

And lastly, but most importantly
Greta the Charming

So when her country was experiencing
A dreadful public relations problem
Due to a prime minister
Who was not trustworthy
Or pretty or handsome
And funny only in an offensive way
And definitely--DEFINITELY--not charming

Greta, always conscientious,
And, quite frankly, sick of retirement
Even if it was self-imposed
By her own demise,
Decided it was her patriotic duty
To try and improve her country's standing
With the rest of the world
By going on what would become known as
Dead Queen Greta's Charming Tour
No emphasis on the 'Dead,' of course

Her former subjects were thrilled that she was back
Even as a mere figurehead instead of an actual ruler

They weren't the least bit surprised
That she had returned
For if ever a person would relinquish dead
And get back to work
For the good of her country
It would be Queen Greta

The prime minister, however, was not so thrilled
As he had already been unfavorably compared to Greta for years
And only found solace in the fact that she was long gone
Now that she was back
Comparisons were even easier to make
And his flaws seemed even more glaring

But Greta only stayed in her only country briefly
Before setting out on her world tour

She did do a photo op with the prime minister
And assured him (under her breath)
That she had no intention of reclaiming her throne

She simply wanted to do her part
And then she'd go back to being just a portrait
In the royal museum

So with a reluctant blessing
From a reluctant prime minister
And the kisses and roses
Of her living subjects
Queen Greta set out to bring glory back
To her beloved nation

Her first stop was, of course, France
Where the people cheered and cried
Upon seeing her

Nobody remembered her, of course
Because she had been dead for years and years
But they had heard stories of her kindness and generosity
And they welcomed her with open arms
And loving compliments
Shouted from the streets of Paris

She was met with equal parts admiration and affection
In other countries as well
--Germany, China, Egypt, Sweden

In Chile, there was a concert organized in her honor
In Greenland, they unveiled an ice sculpture modeled after her
In Turkey, she traveled all over the country
And was given babies to hold
And sicknesses to cure
And soon she began to wonder if they saw her
As some sort of Jesus figure
Simply because she had chosen
Not to remain dead
For the time being

Everywhere she went, she found nothing but gracious hosts
And thousands of people waiting to welcome her
All of them proclaiming that there has never been a leader
As good as she was
And there never would be again

Queen Greta had to admit to herself that she was starting to feel
Not-so-forthcoming for a monarch who was once labeled
Queen Greta the Forthcoming
By roving bands of marauders, no less

After all, who could dispute what was being said about her?
Her enemies and opponents
--And yes, she had enemies and opponents
What ruler didn't?--
All of them were dead
And had been dead for decades
Just as she had been

Was it fair of her to accept all this praise
Without criticism to match it?

For her, the tour was a success
But for her country, the results were mixed

Despite her best efforts, she was still a relic of the past
An item of nostalgia
And her country was a very present thing
And present things were very often unpopular

So after her last stop in Bulgaria
She found herself sitting alone
At a train station
Wondering what to do next

She didn't look forward to dying again
And she couldn't simply go back to being dead
One did have to re-die if he or she expected
To rejoin a state of expiration

As she sat at on a bench at the station
Contemplating whether or not she should be a cliche
And simply throw herself onto the tracks
A little boy came up and sat next to her

--You're very pretty, he said
--Why, aren't you sweet, she replied

She usually carried candy of some sort on her at all times
So that when she met children
She could give them a treat
But she'd given away all her sweets in Spain
Where the children all seemed to mouths full of sweet teeth

--Are you somebody, the little boy asked
--Yes, I--

But she stopped herself
Took a moment
And then said--

--Well, I used to be

She thought of her prime minister
And how hard it must be for him
To compete with a legend
Instead of just a person

Somebody who could never really be tarnished
Who would always enjoy the sunshine of the past
And the positive glow of forgetfulness

I should send him a card, she thought to herself
But what would it say?

She sat with the little boy for a bit longer
Until his mother called to him
And then they had to board a train
Back to their farm in the country

Queen Greta wished them safe and happy travels

--You too, said the little boy

Greta smiled and thought about where her next stop would be

Now that she was a person of the world again
Life suddenly seemed like something
That, like many things
Looked much better
From the other side