Sing a Song of Livre
Pockets full of livre,
and gullets craving rye.
Four brawny Musketeers
dividing up a pie.
When the pie was finished,
they all began to sing.
Joyous that that lovely pie
wasn't gifted to the King.
Said King was in his castle,
plotting out some scheme,
whilst the Queen was in her bedroom,
sad eyes devoid of gleam.
Merry maid was in the garden,
giggling with some knave.
All is quiet at the moment
as long as everyone behaves.
Summoned to the fancy court
at their King's precocious whims,
fast and fierce come they a-riding,
loyal to France and most assuredly to him.
© 2019, Vanessa Sgroi