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A Royal Tale
“There is a charm about the forbidden
that makes it unspeakably desirable,”
Mark Twain
Hark!
Do not the exclaim of pain reign the winds’ swallow?
For the clouds of rain are hollow.
Un-bound is it heard promptly, by the maimed;
airin’ of the songman’s floggin’.
For ne’er shalt again the Queen’s ear be tame
by lyrics of him; he who sing courtship ballads.
Nor Thief or Baron opt for the Queen’s favor,
in land of Holland, by fear of the King’s order.
Whilst uncouth Poet yet claims her secret sorrow.
And she? His verses so hearted, of longin'!
Copyright ©
David Maxoptimism
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