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."