20 April 2011

From a Jester to his Queen

Today I am posting a poem that I started working on yesterday. I am not usually one to write a whole bunch of drafts with my poetry (unless prompted  to do so), but this poem started in the completely wrong way (wrong tone, wrong perspective, going in the wrong direction). So I took a few hints from the P&W prompts I have completed in the past and changed it up. I took the original writing, reversed the order of the lines, picked out the phrases that I liked the best and redrafted twice.

I didn't originally intend for this to be a RemembeRED post, but it was inspired by a memory, and I can't think of jesters without imagining red, so this will also serve as my Red Dress Club post for the week.

This is what I came up with:

From a Jester to his Queen

Here my resignation lies, my queen, at your feet. I must away -
but do not sorrow, for another fool will take my place.
Perhaps he will mock you appropriately, where I have faltered.
I must go my separate way, but worry not! For your court
is greatly populated with those ready to serve your will;
your childhood bed filled with stuffed animals to bow to your whim.

I, too, once populated your little kingdom, running amok at your will.
You would run and I would give chase, bound to my duties.
We two were fools together: myself licensed, you a natural
taking up the parts of the players: you the hero, myself
the distressed damsel, though my beard often gave me away.
The animals would whisper behind their paws, but you affected
not to notice. It was all a part of your elaborate fa├žade,
but your excitements quickly became thin, your meanings
were not meaningful and the animals smiled vapidly for you.

You sat upon your throne and doled out judgments, all around –
no one could be missed. Your fluffy subjects trembled and quaked.
With a vengeful eye, you were willing to cry until ill to get your way.
You confided in me your worry that the leopard would not
give up his spots to you, nor the elephant share his wrinkles.
You gathered your many whims into you and snuggled them close,
your stuffed subjects laying asunder and neglected.

But it is not my place to say, though I am the kind who says
when it is not my place. I must only say that playing the fool
for a fool is no fun and is not something I will to do any longer.
Again I say this: do not despair, my queen, for someone else will come
who will be confided in and called upon, with motley hat and gloves.
I am no loss, for I did not amuse you enough to hold your attention
and you did not amuse me enough to continue. 

Comments welcome, as always.

For fun information on jesters, check out this link. This image was pulled from Wikipedia Commons, here.

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