When the King rode off to the old Crusades
He was leaving his Queen behind,
Safe in the hands of his former aids
He was coy, but he wasn’t blind.
He kept her locked in a chastity belt
And hid the key in his gaol,
Then swore the Gaoler to guard it well
Though the gaoler went quite pale.
How could he give a ‘No’ to a Queen,
Or ‘No’ to her favourite Earl,
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: horror