The King, The Courtier And The Court Jester. Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The courtier puffed his chest so grand,
'I'm vital, sir, you understand!
My wit, my plans, my careful speech,
The king's own ear I always reach.'

The jester twirled, a merry chap,
'But who brings laughter, fills a gap?
When worries weigh and spirits droop,
My silly dance, my joyful hoop! '

They argued long, then made a vow,
'A contest, Sire, to show you how
My worth outshines, my favor gleams,
Beyond your wildest, royal dreams! '

The king looked down, a gentle sigh,
'No contests here beneath my sky.
Each one of you, in your own place,
Holds equal worth, holds equal grace.

These fancy shoes, with gold so bright,
Are nothing without soles done right.
The lace that ties, a simple thread,
Keeps journey's end within your head.

So you, my friend, with thoughts so deep,
And you, who make the kingdom leap,
Your roles are grand, your tasks are true,
I need each one, the same as you.'