In summertime, the ivy climbs,
and hides the castle wall.
The king dreams of late,
that the sea is so great,
and yet - his boat is so small.
As swift as a fox and
dark as a raven on wing,
seven hundred soldiers march
into the valley of the king.
Long overdue, a battle ensues
flanking the powers that be.
Children cry, and good men die,
the monarch is now on his knee…
Soon the horsemen alone
try to maintain the throne.
But the long way around
is the shortest way home.
The evening is filled
with chaos and smoke,
and the kingdom is
stunned by it all…
Soon the sun will go down,
and in spite of his crown,
the king will undoubtedly fall…
His rival’s strength
by a king overtaken,
his life is now but a pawn.
His authority lifted,
the power has shifted –
an era of glory is gone…
Copyright © Cole Banner
Cinderella was disliked by her family,
Her step-mother and her sisters;
Whilst she was kind and generous,
They were evil and boisterous.
All her family had a weight problem,
But she was sim and elegant,
Amorous and thoughtful,
Coy, clever and somewhat bashful.
But she hated everyday living,
As she was just a housemaid and a cook,
So she most definitely wanted to attend the ball,
Where the prince could at her look.
But her step-mum said no,
And both her sisters did gloat,
So she knew she must escape,
From her sinking boat.
If your sociology is bad,
You can believe in whoever for you so cares,
And her role-model was her fairy godmother,
Who in her did hope and for her had dares.
She made it such that Cinders could,
Attend the ball looking good,
By transforming what they had themselves,
Into a ball-gown and carriage with hood.
The prince instantly fell in love,
With Cinderella and her way,
But she rushed off only leaving him her shoe,
To follow up on her foreplay.
Love comes above all else,
When things are grim and rough,
And you must determinedly secure,
Those hope-beads that are made of good stuff.
When you just can't find morality in your life,
The monarch’s voice stands for you,
And the King said that his son,
Should search for his love in the many and the few.
So he searched for her in every house,
Finding her in a cold, locked room,
And she insisted on trying on his treasured shoe,
Taking opportunity which banished all her gloom.
You need to take opportunity with both hands,
By its horns, steadfast and sure,
And even make things happen when no light shines,
So that you beckon and you lure.
The prince forced a physical trial,
Of the shoe on each ones foot,
‘Cos love is physical, not just social,
And is not just psychology’s reboot.
Ok, Cinder’s godmother was a magic one,
Not real to her step-mum or sisters,
But when you’re suppressed and called inferior,
Your thoughts are valid for your interior.
Your actions are right,
And morality is with you,
Not those with money or riches,
Whose selfish deeds do not do.
Being born to abusive parents,
Being born different, poor or destitute,
Doesn't mean you must be such forever,
Just that you need to be most resolute.
So Prince Charming whisked her off,
Right out of her house and her life,
And that should be for all of us,
Where hurt and hardship are rife.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan