The Lyricist and His Verse -- a Tale of Lovers True
Queen Fancy on a dewdrop sea to Pheasant Farm smooth sails,
her fairy barge a gift of one wee handsome Prince of Whales,
a purple petal lopped from off a lily of the Nile,
the throne a slender pistil viewing Egypt's isles in style,
the sails of sirens sewn who zephyrs lovesick coyly tease,
and beaten gold a poop deck idle sunbeams sprawling please
as sylvan oars in daydreams dip in rhythms silver sweet
to lyric lines e'er tripping to a laugh of lilting feet
Her Grace's lyricist low whispers to attending ears
till learnèd larks arise to hymn Apollo's waggoneers
the Globe encircling o'er each continental crust and shelf
while onward steers the barge's Captain Puck a plucky elf
ere straight the stainless tackle steeled to Pheasant Farm draws nigh
as furry farmhands scurry with the heady air to sigh
on eyeing close Her Royal Highness promptly hit her mark
enringed by banks of wherry swans who neatly disembark
along with ogres, imps, and pixies readied right to bowl
no matter if the rub upon the lawn o'erwhelm the stroll,
and when this Bard his airy nothing welcomes back to shore,
a Cleopatra greets an antic Antony grown hoar.
Copyright © James Starkey Iii | Year Posted 2023
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