Songs Paused in the Tree
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Since the elderly king greatly loved music, his court esteemed it, too;
As sun and moon smile on myriad colors, during the butterfly revue.
The king was well loved and jolly, with the queen, always by his side.
He ruled with caring. Like rainbow hued peaks, where indifference died.
His glorious reign had been lengthy, and the vast kingdom prospered;
Like the kingdom of regal, red lilies, blooming regularly as clockwork.
Fabled, flighty, fall days brought friends, on the spur of rare moment,
Often from faraway kingdoms, like night, after colorful postponement.
Fragrant night fell so familiarly, in the ashen shadows of flaming day;
As family arrived feelingly from France, like the heartfelt communique.
The king lived in the house of harmony, like ruby stars dancing in sync;
And green birds sang in its courtyard, under pink, lace clouds, indistinct.
Reliable raspberry sun rose rapturously, along King's Road of old roses;
Replete with robust raven cawing, like when confiding cricket discloses.
The king's musicians gave daily recitals, like the nectarine sun, shining.
Noble courtiers attended every noon, by windows of minty ivy, twining.
The 'orchid valentine beauty' fell in love, in frilly, red petals, cashmere;
As 'crown of thorns peppermint candy,' bloomed throughout green years.
'Miss Jekyll' blooms, sought places to Hyde, since all were colored blue;
While red 'spider lily blooms' spun silk, to be adorned in something new.
One day Old King Cole called for his pipe and bowl, and his fiddlers, too;
And they played as they never had before, like pink finch's sunrise debut!
All windows were open, green leaves quivering. Songs paused in the tree.
'Twas if nature were in hushed rapture, in bygone days, far from the city!
'Old King Cole was a merry old soul.
And a merry old soul was he,
He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl
And he called for his fiddlers three.
Every fiddler he had a fiddle,
And a very fine fiddle had he,
Oh there's none so rare, as can compare
With King Cole and his fiddlers three.'
Copyright © Evelyn Judy Buehler | Year Posted 2025
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