The Dreamer's Bargain
There and back, again
The tale of a dreamer's bargain.
"The city, for the King's pine,
The Queen, to taste its swine.
The brewed I shall have in order
A soup in the princess' quarter
The order sorting the season's prime,
While the priests bless the wine.
The Prince, like a poacher's hide,
Shall have 'his grace' by my side
With sight, marking the missed shots
Riding on the hunting chariots.
The King, still, I shall call 'the King'
A taste of once his hallowed being.
These, I do, not of a wishful swine
Unrest is the head with the kingly pine"
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