The Secret
I have a strange tale to tell
Two mighty gods and a king.
Pan the god of woodland and dell,
Apollo of whom the sun did sing.
Challenged by Pan to a test of skill
Apollo the god of music did agree.
They played and played until
Apollo was granted the victory.
Now Midas loved the god Pan dearly
So with the decision he did not agree.
He questioned the ruling quite clearly
Irritating Apollo to a great degree.
A terrible curse on Midas he did lay
Not giving it a second thought.
Ah Midas, with gods you do not play
Mortals with gods should not consort.
No one knew of the king's terrible plight
Except for one to secrecy sworn.
The barber knew of this horrible blight
Never tell of what the royal head adorn.
Secrets are a heavy load to bear
So the barber dug a hole so deep,
Whispered the secret way down there
Finding relief so he could sleep.
But the earth just could not keep
The secret of shame and bitter woe,
So where he dug that hole so deep
Richly the reeds began to grow.
Now if you walk where reeds grow wild
The wind blowing through the spears,
Pause awhile and listen carefully child
Softly they whisper:"The king has donkey ears."
Copyright © Heidie Buys | Year Posted 2007
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