His ambition 'twas
much to vast for this pond,
and he pled with the muse
for a touch of her wand.
So she conjured a Prince
with a song to inspire,
and set him to conquer
an eastern Empire.
The frog turned a Prince
brought his song to Queen Nan
Who while seeking a singer
found the most handsome man.
He was noble and gracious
this well hidden treasure,
and to have discovered him
gave her great pleasure.
So this magical Queen
with her pen as the tool
built a magical palace
from whence he would rule.
The critical scribes
O that scribbling crew
lauded his song,
and he passed their review.
His wit, dash and, charm
they rushed to acclaim, thus
he awoke one November,
and found himself famous.
Though vaguely conflicted
for a time he was glad,
He knew it was in him
since he was a tad.
His smile made him shimmer
in a radiant light
that drew ladies in waiting
to his court of the night.
And depending how near
one drew to that glow
made him either a dear,
or a danger to know.
For that princely facade
'twas in truth an delusion,
An amphibian's soul
in a muse's illusion.
He was feted, and flattered,
admired, adored, and after a year
O sweet muse!
he was bored.
For the risk, and the challenge
began to wear thin,
and he felt quite beleaguered
in his new regal skin.
The weight of the lace,
and brocade made him grim,
and he yearned to be free
for a nude midnight swim.
Then new orders, and limits
made his artist's heart wince
he debated to be,
or not be the Prince.
Now the frog deep inside
dreamed of breaking the bond,
and the Prince warned the court
he'd retreat to the pond.
But the court remained heedless,
and took it for granted
that every evening
would be one enchanted.
The High King sent minions
to quash this rebellion
but the frog at the core
was a renegade hellion.
Neither honors, nor riches,
nor the High King's command
could bind this Prince
to a realm not his land.
Thus came to pass
and O rue that day
even magic could no longer
hold him past May.
The Prince said O muse
thou hast served me well
I pray thee sweet muse
now to reverse the spell.
It was truly a lark
to sing for a Queen,
but in faith, it was easier
just being green.
Helen Gary