The Princess And The Midget (Poetry)
23rd February 2014
Bored stiff the princess in her tower
checked her clock ten times an hour
restless, fretful, chilled and lonely
wishing for a ‘one and only’
to come riding on his charger
handsome, young and somewhat larger
than his dwarf-like predecessor —
squat and not a stylish dresser
who’d arrived all unexpected
glimpsed but once and soon rejected.
She’d turned her perfect nose up quickly
in a manner sharp and prickly
sent the stunted fellow packing
no cup of tea — all manners lacking
dismissed him in a frightful hurry
without a thought or hint of worry
who he was — how far he’d travelled
the knot of fate remained unravelled
he went away his name unheard
no protest — not one single word.
She wondered in the weeks that followed
why memory perversely hollowed
out a space so clearly haunted
by his face that stared and taunted
every waking dream and musing
’til she thought she must be losing
self control — she felt so strange —
detached and more and more deranged...
a longing grew — it burned and burned
quite desperate for his return.
Lovesick surely — she grew thinner
she picked at lunch, ignored her dinner
even chocolate tasted bitter
all seemed dull — stars lost their glitter
and she became a figure tragic
in thrall to some dark brand of magick.
The king, her father, watched appalled
at what the royal physician called
“a mild depression” and prescribed
a tonic liberally imbibed.
She took the stuff in desperation
but to everyone’s frustration
it didn’t help — she just grew paler
shrank as well, and ever-frailer
her youthful skin now dry and withered
as a leaf. The doctor dithered
more anxious for his reputation
than his poor patient or the nation.
Still the princess yearned away
in her tower — watched and prayed...
Then one day on the road she spotted
a cloud of dust. A pony trotted
proudly bearing its small rider
and smiling up he soon espied her.
When their eyes met such sparks were kindled
all her energies long-dwindled
were revived — she waved excited
keen to show she was delighted
her manner charming — quite exquisite
prompted by his longed-for visit.
Such a contrast to the first
when she at her stand-offish worst
had spurned him — judged him way too small
to warrant any time at all
so high and mighty she’d been blinded
and assumed he’d not much minded...
But had rejection wounded sorely
and left him thinking of her poorly?
Her guilty conscience ached — unshriven
’til he assured she was forgiven.
So much for strapping heroes tall
who towered down from every wall
aloof and undefeated — she
who’d idolised them hopelessly
now found herself in total awe
with insight she’d not had before —
a wise perceptive princess might
find perfect love in one short knight.
Devotion isn’t down to size
but measured deep in heart and eyes
and all those qualities extolled
in legends of the brave and bold
like love and loyalty, truth and trust
those infinitely good and just
finest traits a man might bear
can simply turn up anywhere...
Adventure books can have dull jackets
and romance come in odd-shaped packets.
checked her clock ten times an hour
restless, fretful, chilled and lonely
wishing for a ‘one and only’
to come riding on his charger
handsome, young and somewhat larger
than his dwarf-like predecessor —
squat and not a stylish dresser
who’d arrived all unexpected
glimpsed but once and soon rejected.
She’d turned her perfect nose up quickly
in a manner sharp and prickly
sent the stunted fellow packing
no cup of tea — all manners lacking
dismissed him in a frightful hurry
without a thought or hint of worry
who he was — how far he’d travelled
the knot of fate remained unravelled
he went away his name unheard
no protest — not one single word.
She wondered in the weeks that followed
why memory perversely hollowed
out a space so clearly haunted
by his face that stared and taunted
every waking dream and musing
’til she thought she must be losing
self control — she felt so strange —
detached and more and more deranged...
a longing grew — it burned and burned
quite desperate for his return.
Lovesick surely — she grew thinner
she picked at lunch, ignored her dinner
even chocolate tasted bitter
all seemed dull — stars lost their glitter
and she became a figure tragic
in thrall to some dark brand of magick.
The king, her father, watched appalled
at what the royal physician called
“a mild depression” and prescribed
a tonic liberally imbibed.
She took the stuff in desperation
but to everyone’s frustration
it didn’t help — she just grew paler
shrank as well, and ever-frailer
her youthful skin now dry and withered
as a leaf. The doctor dithered
more anxious for his reputation
than his poor patient or the nation.
Still the princess yearned away
in her tower — watched and prayed...
Then one day on the road she spotted
a cloud of dust. A pony trotted
proudly bearing its small rider
and smiling up he soon espied her.
When their eyes met such sparks were kindled
all her energies long-dwindled
were revived — she waved excited
keen to show she was delighted
her manner charming — quite exquisite
prompted by his longed-for visit.
Such a contrast to the first
when she at her stand-offish worst
had spurned him — judged him way too small
to warrant any time at all
so high and mighty she’d been blinded
and assumed he’d not much minded...
But had rejection wounded sorely
and left him thinking of her poorly?
Her guilty conscience ached — unshriven
’til he assured she was forgiven.
So much for strapping heroes tall
who towered down from every wall
aloof and undefeated — she
who’d idolised them hopelessly
now found herself in total awe
with insight she’d not had before —
a wise perceptive princess might
find perfect love in one short knight.
Devotion isn’t down to size
but measured deep in heart and eyes
and all those qualities extolled
in legends of the brave and bold
like love and loyalty, truth and trust
those infinitely good and just
finest traits a man might bear
can simply turn up anywhere...
Adventure books can have dull jackets
and romance come in odd-shaped packets.