The Queen on her throne

Slowly she marched towards the golden framed chair
tacking small steps to the heightened stage where it stood.
her long silk gown flowing with the pace of her hair
her eyes being covered by her excitement like a thick hood
with an arm around the arm of her king a leap she would dare
speeding up to avoid the stare, something she understood
making her way hurridely she finally got to it there
looking around for her king who would but had no care
embrace her with a hug, and content her with a stare
her destination now sought whether or not they misunderstood
she was the queen on her throne, whether or not they would.