The King was a byword

For showering benefactions,

Until, under the press  of those

Who propped his piratical majesty,

His rugged beard began

To match his cruel eyes into

The instagram of an unsmiling hawk.

 

Before it was many years old,

His rule began to fray.

He could be seen to rob the wretches,

And enrich the robber barons of the day.

 

As disaffection came to be writ large

On common subject’s faces,

He drew from his hollow chest

The last of his trusted aces.

 

Thundering menace at his detractors,

He yelled abominations

Which contravened the agreed

Rules and stipulatons.

 

So, citizen’s took the matter to

The  Commission overhead;

They pondered deeply for thirty days

To nail what the King had said.

 

On the thirtieth day they heard it right—

The King had never said a word;

It was no menace from the royal mouth,

But a royal fart that had been heard.

 

The  stern Commission concluded

The matter with aplomb.

Justice to the Royal cause  was done

The Commission had defused a stinking bomb.

 

The truth having been dissipated,

The King returned to the helm;

Soon the Commission was rewarded

For the keenest ear in the  realm.

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