Princess Zanella's Bouncing Trolls
Princess Zanella, you charm the bouncing trolls
In lanes, rivers, caves and tiny ones in wooden bowls.
Your sleep is soft and your hair so bright
Your lips make the night but mockery to the light.
Your small footsteps make the dungeons weep
Your hummingbird eyes cause the Queen's roses to weep.
Seldom you eat the food laid at your lap
Rarely you nod to traitors who fear your clap.
And still, little princess, little dream so blurry
You've grown in a glass, lived in a hurry.
You have but few words to the crowds to say
If anything, "perish away," you giggle away.
Oh, whimsical Princess Zanella, how you discard the royal burdens
To take a child's heart while butterflies sing your name.
But reality, your foe, frowns, growls and you giggle, because
To you, it's all the same game with gladiators with glossy names.
Your father, King Aimstrod, The Wise, your secrets he knows
Your birth, destiny, purpose his throngs of dragonfly warriors close.
While I stand in curtains deep and thin
Looking for twinkle of your eye and love's dark end.
Mice laugh in harmony unheard
Running like rain through antelope herd after herd.
Lightning dances a monotone step
Into Princess Zanella's spirit muted sleep crept.
King Aimstrod in anger so rare
Made decree of hair, limb, no one to dare.
Leave Zanella be or die with tramps begging to be.
Old shoes worn by serfs and slaves
Replaced by Zanella's smile of twilight's gaze.
Hope, a strand of hope so narrow
Blinding plowmen, silent ox and rusty harrow.
Slowing crawling to her meadow Zanella swims
He watches her birth, candy life and silky hair she trims.
I be her slave receiving nothing from what I gave
Just sweat, lies, and mono-dances filled with critic's lies.
Dance with me, Zanella, I whisper to faint
We will dine with honeybees and stranger's castles we paint.
Chomping leg of deer sipping ale and beer they see
Princess Zanella strolling in ashes looking at me.
Eyes burst from her beauty fine
Hearts stop and gush the older wine.
She sits receiving the lamb's one approach
No mist, dust, or vile encroach.
Just us silently singing her praises so pure
In Aimstrod's kingdom not here, not there.
Not by faith or by a dare
Curse the gambler's lots from feet to hair.
Princess Zanella a woman so strong
I love being with you for breath, forever long.
© 2016 Kenneth Avery
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