Once upon a Summertime there lived a golden prince
In a palace built from beans that grew from kitchen sinks.
He went outside when midday came and in the midday sun,
For he knew nothing of the tales of dogs nor Englishmen.
He lived to sip his smoke divine upon a throne of stars
And fed his harem apple wine but kept their souls in jars.
This winsome whimsical young Prince ruled with a fist of floss,
With his subjects it was rare if he was ever cross.
And while this prince felt so well loved, he had a fatal flaw;
His face and form were perfect but he was a perfect bore
And all across his kingdom as far the eye could see
Existed none honest or curt with whom he could take tea.
For the prince preferred such topics as his hair, his skin, his bones
And ignored the joys that could be found in ancient dusty tomes.
Not for him were stories, myths or poetry,
Nor were facts, heroic deeds or relativity.
He turned away the callers who tried to feed his mind
But kept the ones obsequious and two faced and unkind.
He never seemed to realise that all his friends were foes
But trusted them implicitly – naivety I suppose.
The ignorant prince was much abused by those reputed wise,
Invisible their evil deeds, before his open eyes.
And then one night The Lady came, (as she is wont to do,
She is never on the guest list of the most discourteous fools),
Arriving lone entombed in night
She was sodden, foreign sight
She carried a world in a ring on her hand, enigma in her eyes
Nary a smile nor giggle nor grin, just th’illegible lines of the wise.
When the courtiers brought her in they all seemed quite unwell,
Mesmerised and stupefied they were under some kind of a spell.
The Prince was most surprised at this; his footmen knew the rules;
His other guests had written in, to say they liked his shoes.
“This isn’t fair, this isn’t right, you can’t just waltz in here,
And interrupt the grave debate of ‘Which is my better ear?’”
The Lady did not answer him but gazed from ‘neath her hood,
She radiated something that was neither bad nor good,
The first plumes of her power had tickled her nose; the Prince tried a different tack
“We will welcome you madam, we’ve plenty to share. Is there something you need that you lack?”
The Lady just stood there, rain dripped from her wrists
As in smouldering silence she dared to persist.
The Prince was intrigued now, his charm on high beam,
This Lady was like no one else that he’d seen.
He clapped his hands, “Assist our guest! I will not have it said
The someone in my house was cold and wet and underfed!”
The courtiers stepped forth as one to help remove her cloak
But as she drew it from her face out billowed turquoise smoke.
She raised her hands entrancing all, “Enough of gentile games!
I’ve come here on a mission. I have far nobler aims!”
The Prince submitted to her power
(It was by far his humblest hour)
The courtiers couldn’t help but cower
The ladies were inspired.
The Lady’s eyes in violet glowed
And all at once Prince was bestowed
With information overload;
Too much at once acquired
Light beamed from the Prince’s agape skyward mouth,
Lightning bolts shot from his ears
As all in one moment he experienced facts
And the wisdom one gains over years.
It filled him with horror, with hope and with fright
It made his a cynic, a poet, a knight.
The Lady was shining, had narrowed her eyes
Had forgotten all of her flimsy disguise
The mutually breathless admirers spectated, no one was stopping for wine.
They knew what they witnessed would carry them years, on this they could endlessly dine.
The lightning bolts flickered and faded to rain
The Prince closed his mouth, his composure regained
And once more the Lady controlled his attention
Eyeing him sagely, He was under inspection.
Said she;
“Weary Prince I bestow thee
With a somewhat questionable gift
I do hope it will find pleasure from thee,
But if not, let it cause not a rift
For this is an offer, you might not accept
And all I have given you yet is the concept.
The problem you see, is it’s like a tattoo,
And therefore once done is the devil to undo.
I know that for some this would just tantalise
I’d be run over by them in their rush to subscribe
But for you, feckless prince, it may be the other
You’d amble off home, say, ‘It’s too much like bother”
And what if you changed your mind half way through?
What if you realised it’s just not for you?
This taster you’ve had will fade when you sleep
But if you want more you will have it for keeps”
The courtiers exchanged some looks, most unprofessionally,
They realised their lives could swerve away from milk and honey.
The vizier removed his hat and squeegeed off his head.
The silken cloche was soaked in sweat, his eyes were filled with dread
The ladies’ fans were all aflutter – was this the longed-for day?
To stop feigning stupidity and the end of all things fey?
Prince raised one hand in punctuation
“Dear Lady you fill me with much consternation
You have given me the fruity brambly bit,
But before I reached cedar you forced me to spit
And now you inform me of your heavy game
A choice between different or more of the same,
Between fear and vanity, humility and bliss,
Creed and hedonism and so forth like this.
I require contemplation, a pool to reflect
Without others’ input to urge or reject
And so we will gather here one hour hence
And I shall dismount from this perilous fence.”
He nodded quite stiffly and smiled with a grim
Little glint in his eye and a granite hard chin.
No more just the narcissist, so fauxly coy
No more just the whimsical “why not?” boy.
This was now a man with courage, strength and gravity
But heavy shoulders burdened with responsibility.
The next 60 minutes performed, as they must
With Time’s cruellest trick and they stretched into dust.
The chairs in the hall disarrayed to a skelter
As the guests hurried off to the smoking shelter.
The Lady said nothing but sat on the floor
Surrounded by trifle, potatoes and more:
Platters of sweetmeats and slices of tongue
Some with delicate perfume and some with true pong.
All went untouched as the Lady just waited
For she had a hunger that could not be sated
By titbits or tasters or flavours galore.
Her eyes were now glowing the purest azure
She shuddered and shimmered, then froze statuesque.
The Vizier fancied himself basilisk
Then slumped rather glumly to consider his fate
And whether it was wise for him to await
The Prince’s decision. If Princey awoke
To the fact that His leadership was a joke
The first thing He’d say would be “Off with your head!”
Quite right after all of the lies He’d been fed.
With this echo in mind the Vizier resolved
To empty the treasure pod of all of its gold
Before the Princely announcement was made.
That way his streaky old bacon he’d save.
He slithered away inside a breath
A mucilaginous sweat trail was all that he left.
Oblivious he to Her observation,
She would find time to reward this shrewd auto-salvation.
With five minutes left the crowd reassembled,
Refilled their glasses, excitedly trembled
Their singular focus was a scarlet curtain
Behind which their future was being made certain.
The courtiers, the ladies, the laymen all gasped
As their Prince re-emerged seeming breathing his last
His golden hair ashen, his skin was the same
He huffled and shunched his once elegant frame
And finding his throne gripped its arms for support
A little bit more than for his age he ought.
Called the Lady most firmly, “Well then, we’re all waiting.
What did you learn from your deep cogitating?
Have you made a decision? If not flip a coin,
I have other appointments and gifts to deploy.”
The Prince stroked the space where his beard should be
And let loose a sigh to the power of three.
“Officious visitor, what have you done?
You have made me aware of my own bumbledom.
Now self-aware sociopath, unfulfilled hero
Without a believable stroke of the ego.
And my court! Such sycophants! Self serving subjects!
Not one word of truth or kindness or respect.
How did this happen? And yet, this I know.
Apolaustic life. Avoidance of woe.
Omphaloskepsis and self aggrandising
Were pastimes delightful and quite hypnotising.
My blinkers of nescience now ripped from my face
And the bright lights of truth burn my eyes in their place.
Do none of you care what the future will be?
Or do you delight in epicaricacy?
Flippertigibbets advice I have heeded
But responsible leadership was what was needed.
This gift of enlightenment is wrongly named
For it burdens my soul and my conscience with shame.
A mockery of this land’s honour and grace
Kakistocracy with it my deeds did replace.
How can I ever recover from this?
Will I ever again experience bliss?
Ever consumed by improvement’s endeavour,
So many poisonous drip-feeds to sever.”
The Lady now tutted and tossed back her hair:
Pretty interruption with much practised flair:
“Come come, now! Indulgence of speeches aside
Have you chosen knowledge or the boetian side?”
“I was coming to that, will you please have some patience?
I need to explain my hour long machinations.
Now where was I? Oh yes. It’s coming back now.
The question of what I would give up and how.
To know what I was and the work it will take
To restore some dignity, corruption to break
Is most overwhelming and a life long campaign.
From parties and pleasure I’d have to refrain.
Get my hands dirty, permit age’s wrinkles
To sully this face. Tired eyes do not twinkle.
I would have to confront and debate and condemn
Set an example, be a man amongst men.
I would lose all my gusto and vivacity
With no time for laughing or cakes and cream tea.
I wouldn’t have people to tell me I’m gorgeous
Or be woken by the “We Love You” chorus.
No hours ruminating on trousers or shoes
At board games I might even once or twice lose.
And replacing these joys, what‘s the exchange?
Effortful living and stress induced mange.
I would miss all the costumes and much of the mirth
I ask you; is knowledge truly of this worth?”
“Answering me is your deep-set conceit
You‘re an unchanged poltroon, Princey my sweet.”
Her eyes were glittering, but the Prince took no notice,
So absorbed was he in atrabilious morosis.
“My answer is this: take it all away.
Nay. I say. Nay - I say. Once again, nay!
I can’t face dealing with each cockalorum
Or policy debates or learning decorum.
I don’t want to know about poverty or pain,
I would prefer each day of my life was the same;
A sweet carousel of earthly pleasures,
Time consumed with chores of leisure.
I fail my people for my people failed me.
If this is so bad, install democracy!
Puppet Prince I was and choose to always be.
This narcissistic life is warm. Wisdom is lonely.
I hope you understand, my dears. I hope you do not mind.
I just want to forget all this and return to being blind.
Lady, your instructions included nepenthe sleep.
This is my one salvation and so, to it I weep.”
He turned away, eyes to the floor
The Lady grinned most undemure
She reached her feet, he reached the door
No subject said one word.
Crackling light from fingertips,
Vowelless sound from bloodless lips,
The Prince was lifted from the hips
Etiquette seemed absurd.
A cloud of violet shimmering lights
Surrounded the gyrating Prince in the heights
The Lady seemed larger and slightly demonic
The ladies had run out of gin for their tonic.
This bringer of wisdom cackled and turned
Each one of the laymen her eyes rightly burned.
Her voice had changed from reasonable to ringing with disdain
“Now face what you have made, you fools, and what you must maintain.
For reign he must and in the manner that you all have chosen,
In a form befitting character this choice has outright proven
And now you shall receive the present that you all deserve:
This is my gift to your kingdom, perfidious herd.”
The sleeping prince amongst the clouds let out a little sigh
As ghostly fingers played on him and measured up his size
His outline seemed to stretch and twist, his tresses all fell out
His clothes dissolved, his achingly beautiful face became a snout
His arms foreshortened, legs the same and fingers now hooves cloven.
The court were certain that for a Prince this form was unbehoven.
Then with a little popping sound denoting the final detail
His new figure was completed with a tufted curly tail.
Like Rodda’s swine force 10 he soared - a most majestic sight.
Missing only earthbound string he could be a Flyodian kite.
Smiling now, his eyes awake he drifted slowly floorward.
And landing with a little grunt his first steps seemed quite awkward.
After two or three missteps he seemed to find his trotters
And spontaneous applause spilled from the half closed kitchen shutters.
The Lady took a half step back to assess her handiwork
It seemed to be acceptable - she wore a little smirk.
“He will not know how things have changed, or of the choice he made.
He still thinks he is human. You will uphold this sweet charade.
When you had a choice you chose the path unscrupulous
To set a good example this imbalance I redress.
The country now will worship him, this Prince in Piggyform
And he will live 100 years. Your duty is foresworn.
All this world will know of you and all of you they’ll mock.
With all the disrespect you’ve shown this shouldn’t be a shock.
My mission done, I’m leaving you to deal with your new lives.
Killing me will do no good, so put away your knives.
Oh yes, there was one more little thing…”
She opened her mouth as if to sing
But instead loudly vomited a purple thing.
It was a slimy toad.
She laid it on the Prince’s back
The courtiers spied its tiny silk hat
“and that’ the Lady said, “is that.
It’s time to hit the road.”
