Stately and serene
Don't describe this queen
Who's short and always in red
She struts around
Wearing a crown
Shouting “Off with their head!”

Her minions are cards
Not soldiers or bards
And they cater to her every desire
They do what she wants
Endure all her taunts
Though they may have cause to perspire

For though she is small
And nothing like tall
Her presence will still pack a punch
She's always a-yelling
At those who are telling
Her things with their brains out to lunch

So if you are smart
And pay attention to part
Of where your feet are treading
You'll stay well clear
Of that queen and her near
Obsession with beheading