a rhyming thingymajigger |
* Note: this poem is a lot more fun if you read it aloud and quickly Sings She, the Maiden Queen, her tweet, so sweet, her fluttered beat of heart, it darts, like the lark's in Spring, it seems, this pretty thing now calls the squall to drown us all, her tears and fears trail down her frown, hands twisting wringing grabs she her gown, and shouts and pouts and stamps about. Her rage with age may temper to a whimper, let her simper, let her simper, like the monkey, or the flunky to its master, Oh Disaster! Fight the spell, shun the caster, she is running, faster, faster, rather gather skirts of green, flaunt thy youth in ways obscene, slap the Winter, damn his logic, claim his fame demagogic, melt the steel, blast the stone, crack the pillars of my home, for like the ox in the stable to a fault I am able to chew the cud quite content, unknown to me a sentiment, for while I chew my mind is blank, a state of which I do find rank. So set me free, oh Maiden Queen, ruin me, make me scream, yank my heart by its strings, for though my hate may slow subside, and though I'll surely damn thine eyes, at least I'll know we're both alive. |