A Troubadour's Ballade To Lady Di Poem by Paul Amrod

Bring out an entourage of regalia.
Punchinello wears a sage’s medallion.
Twisting angels gaging battalions
straightening the tangled path for our Lady Di.
Lifting an anticipating stallion
while wearing no garlic or onion.
The Red Brigade was left for the Italians
purging the mangled path to our Lady Di.
Kept biting nails in Argentina,
Santa Maria, Pinta and Nina.
Losing their faith as soldiers cried,
“Why must I die for thee, my Lady Di? ”
Wondering about laws so easily decided
leaving Maronites in a light confided.
Only in union with the Dukes of Midas
can candles light a pleading path to our Lady Di.
Bring out an Antioch’s monk’s survivor
from the grotto of a sunken devisor.
Asking for an Aramaic quote much wiser
than the Victorian drat of our Lady Di.
Guiding yogic mystics in a gentle way
reverberating resonance for the Holiday.
Light o’ Love in penance will stay
elevating Venus’ path to our Lady Di.
Smackwater Jack of the flush royale
burned his mustache due to poor morale.
Alaskan huskies of the mush corral
are guiding a chariot’s path to our Lady Di.
Poor casting of a BBC screenplay
left us wanting Comedia dell’Arte.
‘Twas a pasting from a piercing ray
leaving the Arts bleeding in the wrath of Lady Di.