Best Princes Poems
The king and Queen
Of the elves have two blonde haired blue eyed
Princes who will one day reign
In the beautiful forest of Aberdeen.
These two young adults named Ivan and Eugene
Have learned about what it takes to rule their
Realm of green.
The Monarchy is so excited there will be two
Kings to take care of their domain.
The King and Queen
Have sent for the prince's younger sister princess
Josephine
Who will now remain with her husband Germane
In the beautiful forest of Aberdeen.
Ivan will be marrying princess Geraldine.
Eugene will be marrying princess Lorraine.
The King and Queen
Will be hosting the engagement ball where the
Princesses will be receiving their rings of
Aquamarine.
This will be a huge event where elves come from
All around to play games, give their blessing, a
Present and to toast the young couples with
Champagne.
In the beautiful forest of Aberdeen
Is a spectacular scene.
Captain
Report to the King and Queen
In the beautiful forest of Aberdeen.
There once was a prince who was green
the greenest prince frog far cousins had seen,
yet to others his green behaved too much prince
but which creatures saw which
did not matter since
this frog prince thought One
without Other
obscene.
Swiftly swallowing resentment of play
Acting and dancing to music
Shallow beats and tambourines
There are wild hills full of echo
Mindless ghouls and children skipping through fog
Thick and wet - pouring through my hair
Clever retort from beleaguered little men and women
Rheum, flowing mind, draining into a styrofoam cup
Hot with pulp and grit, my body purges
Life's collar-key broken by bone and rock
I am left alone to wander the plains
Of my self-consciousness.
I search.
Something is always missing, always running
Away from hands that will not catch
My eyes are not quick enough to see.
The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking
Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died
As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence
Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt
My Story Telling Together In A Strange World
petals of prisms
prancing among persimmons
princess faerie plays
To that waving angry sea sand,
In that twilight hours for cattle,
The 'Princes of Time' built Castles.
Some said ,"mine's better". "Mine" ,one said.
Under the sky of dawn winter ,
They raised flags to limit the sky.
Turned up, turned side, stayed quick - I saw.
I hate their *roses, red though.
I hate their shrilling song of "My".
They built, they played, they fought, they marred,
Unto the twilight - nearing dark.
These Princes though very little,
Unto the twilight - nearing dark,
At the shore, they built SAND Castles.
*Roses = lips
Here in parochial Melbourne town,
Football causes many a frown,
Folk say, "Who do ya barrack for?"
I think, "What do ya wanna know for?"
Then I say, "Right back at ya!
I barrack for Jesus and Mahatma!"
Yes, let's barrack for our princes of Peace,
In our hearts, their dear souls to keep,
It might make our world a better place,
If we all had a serene smiling face,
To barrack for Jesus and Mahatma,
"There you go, right back at ya!"
We were out where we shouldn't be.
Walking hedges, robbing nests and swinging sticks to whack the ears of wheat, fancying that we might bag a rabbit with darts and slings and catapults.
No harm, save the treading down of stalks through farmer's barley corn.
We were Princes of that land. Fearless, with packs upon our backs and makeshift weapons in our hand.
But the wind then rose in a sudden darkening squall
and we sheltered in a copse while gusts battered low the barley and the wheat and the woods in early evening pall began to scream.
Treetops thrashed and whined a ghoulish howl
and heavy drops lashed knocked-leaf-fall all around.
We took fright at nature's passing wrath.
Much like the fear that rose from heart to mouth
when skipping through Kings Hedges Wood,
black rook stared and stood its path too close
for one so young alone.
Such fear arose in us that all the Princes ran.
They ran for mother-comfort, mother-comfort in the home, mother's gingham kitchen apron by her new lit warming fire, mother's towel rub and hair tidy with her brush and tortoise comb.
PRINCE'S LANGUAGE,ENGLISH!
-Dharga Nagar Safa
English-
The Queen's language we say,
But,
"The Queen is a woMAN,
sHE is in the list of feMALE",
Here, the Queen's rule, not in English,
But, the Prince's role in English,
Still,
English,
The Queen's language,we say!
Shannon watched a royal wedding
one afternoon on the TV,
the flowers, coaches, and garlands,
all the pomp and majesty,
the fancy gowns and ornate hats,
black-tie suits that fit handsomely,
noble steeds pulling carriages,
in her minds arose fantasies…
She saw herself in a ballroom
twirling ’round her paramour,
taking the hand of her suave prince,
in the arch of a gothic door,
cruising the warm Riviera
in a yacht that would leave most floored,
closets full of lovely dresses,
rows of the fanciest shoes galore.
She dreamed of sprawling palaces,
of servant to see to her whims,
four-poster bed, with chandelier,
to lie down and make love to him,
a gilded, bulging treasury,
gold and silver and jewels within;
all girls want to be princesses,
the thought of it still made her grin.
But then she recalled another
prince who had gone on a talk show,
airing all the dirty laundry,
sought to lay his family low,
and another caught cheating with
a stewardess while on the go,
the tabloids found out, ran wild,
until folks were all in the know.
She recalled the older prince who
folks said was a pedophile,
and how it all had been hushed up,
elites don’t like to stand trial,
and she saw how they lived planned lives,
schedules just weren’t her style,
and travelling without her kids,
not seeing them for long whiles?
It make her look out to the den,
on the couch slept her husband, Stan,
in his arms snoozed little Carmen;
as a father, none were more grand,
he worked, he sweat, he came off rough,
but always by her did he stand,
what need had Shannon of princes
when she’d landed herself a man.
Are you a Poet or tactician,
or “A Rose By Any Other Name…”
Are your words stained with patina,
some would scrub and some would blame
Is your Kingly ode too rough for some,
finding safety in their books
Is your verse uncut with edges sharp,
—all Princes in their rooks
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)
“You can have any wish,” the genie said.
“Any ONE wish?” the girl asked, a little disappointedly.
“One wish,” the genie answered, shrugging.
“Oh.. then” she said, thinking it over. “I wish for.. a banana,” she said whimsically.
“A banana?” The genie asked, hesitantly.
“Yes, the girl said, nodding her head.
A banana appeared on the table.
“As a banana pudding, please - in a bowl,” she amended.
The genie nodded, and a large bowl of delicious looking pudding took the place of the banana.
“With a spoon?” she asked sweetly, and a spoon appeared by the bowl.
She tasted the pudding and it was, indeed, magically delicious.
“A jewel encrusted spoon.” she corrected, and again it was so.
Then she blurted, all at once:
“The Spoon is In the hand of a handsome prince, who’s genetically identical to Timothée Chalamet and is so in love with me that he proposed a moment ago - to the delight of his father, the king, who knows we will both live long and happy lives, having several delightful children - that will rule long after us - but who, unbeknownst to anyone, has an immensely serious heart condition that, sadly, will claim him roughly fifteen minutes after he pronounces the prince and I husband and princess!”
The prince appeared, and the happy king.. It all happened.
As the ensuing dramas unfolded, the genie took his leave.
“It’s *never* just a banana,” he said to no one, snapping his finger and vanishing in a puff of wispy white smoke.
Midnight is a princess
With many friends in the sky
Stars, moonlight and breeze
Gone to meet them
And refuses to return,
Leaving me alone in the wilderness
For many days she embraced me
Giving me the solace of cozy sleep
Being selfish I kept her captive
But midnight is not my prisoner
Slowly slowly hours pass
Night walking with gentle paces
Darkness all around, drowned in fatigue
Seeking the sleep in silence and solitude
Moments move, thoughts fill the void
Days come closer, from childhood to present
Filled with yore, frozen and melted
With mind full of clouds, dense and thin
Restless and impatient, changing the sides
Towards completing one more day
My life long companion
Midnight is inherently kind
Mild, whispering and soothing
Emerging after the half night
In beauty and grace, serenity and calm
Helping me in my journey
Through the starry passage
Far from uncertainty and dreams
Lying in her loving lap waiting for dawn
I bid her adieu
Do not put your trust in princes
For they are mortal men.
When their spirit departs
They return to the dust again.
Their plans come to nothing
For their hope’s not in the Lord
The Maker of heaven and earth;
No eternal life they’ve scorned.
The Lord builds up Jerusalem
He gathers the exiles from abroad.
Heals the broken hearted;
A new life of peace to be scored.
His understanding has no limits;
He sustains the humble not proud.
Casts the wicked to the ground
For to Satan they’ve bowed.
He’s revealed His word to Jacob;
Provided laws and decrees.
Trust not in mortal princes;
He’ll bring them to their knees.
Trust rather in God’s promises
Given freely to all men.
For He will uphold the saints;
Set all prisoners free again.
The Bible is your roadmap
Provides your basic instruction.
Before leaving earth
This is the saints’ induction.
Its living words will change you
When by faith you act;
According to its principles;
Trust no earthly princes’ pact.
Copyright © 2009-2012 Maureen LeFanue
www.maureenlefanue.com
There is in every man a King,
In every boy a Prince,
And though old stories true still ring,
We have forgotten since
That as it is a woman’s due
The Queen she is to state,
It is the right of all men too
To claim as Kings our fate.
We all are born the very same,
So helpless, small, and strange,
Though through whatever fate, we claim
Inevitable change.
Though truth does not always bring joy,
One truth I know still can:
There is a Prince in every boy,
A King in every man.
All men, though equally are made,
Do not equally stay;
Some men their royal status trade
For things that last a day.
Only Kings are those real men
Who love with all their heart,
Who try and try and try again
The whole, and not the part.
I, myself was once a King,
But then from grace I fell,
And though once more in everything
I rose, and now excel,
I was in youth taught differently,
And growing, I have since
Learned there’s a King in every man,
In every boy a Prince.