The Princess and the Pea

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In raging storms,
Wild winds blows wide,
The iron cask gate,
Creaks and rasps,
In lashing rain,
He,
A king of finery,
A handsome face,
Bespoke her,
A hair of fuzzy mess,
A wet and weeping mess,
To sleep a frightful night,
On feather-down and mattress high,
Resting on a pearly superstition,
The queen in disillusion,

As the sun rose,
In muted tones,
Of weeping red
And aubergine rosette,
Her lips drew breath,
Mingling tears,
Tasting the morning dew,
Her eyes wide in wake,
Thinking of her dearest king,
Her heart feathered,
And gaping,
She hardly slept a wink.

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