Queen of Merryland
We had heard of the Queen of Merryland for weeks and weeks.
Everyone wanted to see her, our imagination in high rising peaks.
She came in with an entourage, and we stopped being excited.
She looked persnickety, pinched, angry cheekbones highlighted.
How can she be the Queen of Merryland? My friend swiftly asked me.
Look at her standoffish-ness, which frankly, any dumbbell can see.
I have one idea, I said, it is the one I think which you will have to agree.
She was born into it, the daughter of a King who was not at all merry.
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