What fun to have a fiefdom,
If but for a little while:
The peasants, underneath them,
And above them, only sky!
What fun, to lord the manor,
And direct all they survey,
Enjoy the crowds that clamor,
And delight them, all the day!
What party could be grander,
Than this masquerade, at hand?
They wear such festive costumes,
As the circumstance demands,
Till peasants, with their pitchforks
And their torches, ten-foot-tall,
Come tumbling in with blunderbuss,
And catapult them all!
Copyright 2019 Andrea LeDew
What a fun poem! (And cautionary tale.)
Thanks Liz.
A nursey rhyme, for uncommon times. 😊
Hmmmm – nice Andrea and one of the things I liked was the words syncing so well – especially at the end I smiled with this:
torches, tumbling blunder