She was no queen of Sparta,
but she be a reckoning force.
She wasn’t Homer’s Helen of Troy,
though a miscalculated wooden horse.
And when she extends a sturdy arm
to give the other a firm handshake,
she pulls them close in to her ear,
whispering, “Valkyrie is my namesake.”
I am a loving and caring woman,
but my sharpened tongue can pierce.
I am your Midsummer Night’s Dream,
being both little and also fierce.
But, don’t you dare ever underestimate
the potential that I possess
to be a ruthless vixen of war.
I have no patience for duress.
For as long as you are caring,
I can promise I’ll be your pal,
but the moment you underestimate me,
well, you can call me Val.