by G B Dent

Created on: October 17, 2008

Ode To A Fool

When my Masters congregate,
Up oer' the hill beyond the gate.
I sit upon the levy........

Now through my hidden vision (sight unseen).
I see them pressing pawn and king.
Yet now I sit a' pondering, sulking in the meadow.

Such is the wisdom of the State that we as subjects participate.
But woe to have been such my fate,
To be the Kings and councils bait.

(For you see) I am the jester of the King,
To prance and sing for his following.
By day they council war and might,
And who shall smite the poor by right.

Ere' night falls....at end of day.
They'll call their fool in want of play.
But Oh, like hounds they'll bark and bite,
For I've found no joke for them this night!

To see the council and the king is such a splendid sight.
Yet now I walk a stumbling, ever loosing evenings light.
I crouch and mumble searchingly,
For they'll want of jest tonight.

I haven't felt so nearly low,
As to see the shining knight.
Pronounce the out come of the battle,
In which we'd lost the fight.

The council grumbled slowly,
But King he now spoke only
Of dinner, wine, and wife.
(Such passive ignorance of plight.)

I went down past the stables,
As the horses made for bed.
The stars were shining brightly,
Still no rhymes came to my head!

I strolled up past the guardsmen,
As the palace came in sight.
They'll reek of woe tomorrow,
Yet they'll want of jest tonight.

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