Friday 24 December 2010

A Fairy Tale (in rhyming couplets); just a piece of Christmas Whimsey.

“A master you will be here.”
“Quick, quick the Queen is very near.”
“But what?” His face falls, he looks aghast.
“Are these the fashions of centuries past?”
I look down to my flared jeans.
“Perhaps they were.” I have to concede.
But before he lets me explain the rest,
He’s tugged off my jumper, is pulling at my vest.
“Hey get off, leave me alone.”
“Oh but the Queen”. He begins to moan.
“The Queen? Which Queen? And why am I master?”
“Oh no, oh no, oh what a disaster.”
I stand back away from my strange adversary.
Holding my jumper and listening cursorily.
I will leave soon, back to my home,
I listen vaguely as he talks about Rome.
“So you see like The Vatican, a principality?”
“Only not the same world and without Christianity.”
“We’ve waited for you for three thousand and ten.”
“Years or months or days? Since when?”
I shout a little louder than I intended,
And hope my new friend will not be offended.
“You’d call them years but we call then happenings.”
“It’s about the same measurement give or take a Saphering.”
I roll my eyes at the meaningless chatter,
Can’t help but be thinking of the Mad Hatter.
But still I am here listening to him.
Watching the sunlight gradually dim.
I suppose what he says must have some meaning,
After all I’m nowhere I know and I don’t think I’m dreaming.
“What is it you’ve waited so long for?”
“You, my dear, my flamingo, what more?”
“But clearly I really haven’t a clue,
Where I am or what it means I should do.
Your Queen, who is she? What should I say?
Is it really important I do it today?”
“Oh today is the Prophecy, salvation’s friend,
If you don’t speak to her now then I’m afraid it’s the end.”
“The end of me, or you, or what else?”
“The end is the end whichever detail you place.”
His face is morose and I feel myself quiver.
This is a point at which I really can’t dither.
“Just stand before her and tell her what you know.
The words will be as they’re written below.”
“Words written where and can I read them first?”
“No time to explain this is her Velirst.”
I look behind me and sure enough.
A two wheeled cart, broken and rough,
At the edges. But inside plush and cosy,
A darling girl with her cheeks all rosy.
She pulls up, steps down every bit the fairy Queen,
More silver and gold than you have ever seen.
I look for wings but there are none,
She appears just like me although with her dark hair done.
“Roguerfeld you called me here?”
Her voice is so quiet I strain my ear.
“Yes ma’am I have such urgent need of your audience.”
“Well what is it? I’m dining with His Honourable Radiance.”
Her whisper is impatient and I wonder at cruelty,
But then I am pushed forward to bow at the royalty.
“As you are time pushed I won’t ramble.”
“With your favour you know I’d never gamble.”
“Quite right, quite right so what is this?”
She turns up her nose as if to dismiss,
But she looks at the man and meets his black eye,
And suddenly she’s reddening, her eyes tearing to cry.
“Yes ma’am, oh yes this is the one.”
“It can’t be it can’t be; it is too young.”
“No I assure you I have followed every rule.
Standing before you is our General.”
I gasp and I gape but I stay fixed to my spot.
A general, a saviour a prophecy I am not.
But the Queen, so dewy, her porcelain skin,
Is bowing down to me and leaning in.
She grasps up my hand and I feel her cold touch,
She holds my hand and kneels as such,
A cosseted woman can.
While I wished that I had ran and ran.
It was too late now, I was already involved.
But with what and where I could not solve.


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