Notes About The Poem
6/17/2025 for Fantasy Poetry Contest sponsored by Constance La France
The Hummingbird Fantasy King
Mr. Smith sat tiredly, long hours at his desk,
by an old vacation photo, picturesque,
and a stack of papers; another twelve-hour day,
slowly, draining his lonely life away.
He looked at the picture and thought he heard
the voice of a tropical hummingbird
that lived inside that aged picture frame,
and, strangely, called him by his childhood name.
Could this be a hallucination?
Some out-of-control visualization?
He wondered, "Should I laugh out loud or scream?
I mustn't worry. It must just be a dream...
Or maybe it's a reverie, not a dream?"
The voice said, "I am His Majesty Supreme,
by needle beak, and by rotary wing,
I am the hummingbird fantasy king.
Smith felt his grip was growing flimsy,
when the bird said, "I also deal in whimsy".
"No! bird", you are my imagination!"
he screamed at the bird who forgot his station.
Mr. Smith disappeared, some say lost his mind.
Others say he left the world behind,
and he's living in a tropical dream
with a hummingbird, His Majesty Supreme.
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