The beloved Queen of Hearts was a merry queen, who'd ever loved to bake;
Like confetti midnight stars, sparkling; or the yellow, noon sun, wide awake.
She baked myriad varieties of cookies, and delicious pies of different kinds,
And also scrumptious cakes, so divine; like pure gold, tinted rainbows find.
The king had a cheerful disposition, too, but betimes could be quite stern;
Like the scarlet blossoms, which fail to thrive, before floriculture is learned.
Faithful friends became part of the many faceted court, like tinted bubbles,
......
Back in 1949, the Krewe of Zulu
elected their brand new king...
And to everyone celebrating Mardi Gras
this man would finally bring...
The kind of Mardi Gras revelry
no New Orleanian had ever seen...
Hail King Louis Armstrong
and his beautiful Mardi Gras queen...
They landed on a tugboat
......
About time,
I've paid my dues I've crossed the line,
This moment I thought would never come,
Is in my grasp, the deed now done.
Don't get me wrong, I loved my Mum,
But all that passed would surely stun
Even a saint or the Lord above,
So tiring being an aimless dove.
......
Humpty Dumpty lived in make-believe land, like dreamy shadows get long;
And he dwelt in a house near a wall, among merry, crimson, oriole throngs.
He had a figure equally rotund and jolly, and was therefore loved by many;
And made his living as an apt teacher, as Thursday learns from Wednesday.
He helped the spirited children to learn, and also helped the children laugh,
As roses in the sky govern dawn's path, in pearl moon's, riotous aftermath.
Folks far and near visited Humpty, beneath azure skies of frequent friends;
......
You've been dead for the same amount of time that you lived, forty-two years.
You were loved and your death devastated each and every one of your peers.
You didn't perform in all fifty states, one state that you missed was Montana.
You performed your last concert on June 26, 1977 in the state of Indiana.
Two of your hit songs were 'All Shook Up' and 'Hound Dog'.
You had great taste in motorcycles, you sure did love Hogs.
You had a wonderful life but not a life that was long.
When doctors constantly prescribed those pills, it was wrong.
You loved to give away Cadillacs, you truly had a heart of gold.
It was very sad to lose you when you were only 42 years old.
......
The beloved Queen of Hearts was a merry queen, who'd ever loved to bake;
Like confetti midnight stars, sparkling; or the yellow, noon sun, wide awake.
She baked myriad varieties of cookies, and delicious pies of different kinds,
And also scrumptious cakes, so divine; like pure gold, tinted rainbows find.
The king had a cheerful disposition, too, but betimes could be quite stern;
Like the scarlet blossoms, which fail to thrive, before floriculture is learned.
Faithful friends became part of the many faceted court, like tinted bubbles,
......
Humpty Dumpty lived in make-believe land, like dreamy shadows get long;
And he dwelt in a house near a wall, among merry, crimson, oriole throngs.
He had a figure equally rotund and jolly, and was therefore loved by many;
And made his living as an apt teacher, as Thursday learns from Wednesday.
He helped the spirited children to learn, and also helped the children laugh,
As roses in the sky govern dawn's path, in pearl moon's, riotous aftermath.
Folks far and near visited Humpty, beneath azure skies of frequent friends;
......
About time,
I've paid my dues I've crossed the line,
This moment I thought would never come,
Is in my grasp, the deed now done.
Don't get me wrong, I loved my Mum,
But all that passed would surely stun
Even a saint or the Lord above,
So tiring being an aimless dove.
......
What is a king?
Oh a foolish thing,
So pathetic and tired,
A crown of gold,
A mighty roar,
All to jump through a hoop made of fire.
Oh,
But what is a king?
Oh a terrible thing,
......
AN ODE TO THE WORKS OF KING MSWATI III OF ESWATINI
A precious jewell of the Mdzimba mountains,
A king is a king by his rulership of the people.
My king is a father of orphans,
My king is an education to the poor,
My king is a bill of rights to the widows,
My king is a sprinting leg and a tough knee—
My king is food to the table to the disabled poet.
But I won't say 'Long live' to my king.
......