Snow falls onto a castle spire

and a princess sits, near burned by the fire

Peasant children play in the grounds below but it’s not a pleasure the princess knows

Her hands are gentle, soothed by fragrance and oil

Bathed in milk and honey, she dons the jewels of a royal

Her skin is untouched by the Pauper’s sun,

She longs to pick flowers, if only just one

Bells from the church break blasphemous thought

though a feeling nags, her status is for naught

She finds her warmest cloak, ties its strings beneath her throat

slips past the guard and treks to the yard

 

The jester she finds drunken and merry

as if he’d just eaten bush-berry

She pulls her hood tight, her presence he’d make light

She tries to sneak past, but the his will outlasts

yet instead of his rousing frolick and play,

he inches in to say:

 

“Dear Heiress, I am glad you are here

There is deception from those who are near

Though she feigns quite demure,

our queen is impure

Yes, there is another who desires your riches,

and the queen will do as she wishes

Because for those who seek power,

There is no shame in stomping a flower

 

The soothsayer waits in the wood past town

but you must halt until the sun goes down

Do as you please, but I felt you should know,

as we all have times in which we must go-

But heed this, princess, whatever you choose

the hearts of your people, you shall never lose

Return to the castle at once, my liege,

your citizens ensure you will travel with ease”

 

The princess pulls back the hood of her cloak

to find she is surrounded by solemn townsfolk

Deeply they bow as she treks through the snow

Burdened with thoughts of family turned foe

She enters her chambers to find a lady in wait,

with worry in her face and panic in her gait

 

“The queen seeks your ear, your counsel she desires

She waits in the hall in her seat by the fire

but there is a man of whom I’ve never seen

The look in his eyes is of a frightful dream

Forgive me, princess, if I speak out of turn

I may be a fool, but my stomach, it churns”

 

The princess nods, embraces her lady in wait

grazes her cheek and wipes the tear from her face

She looks to the sun hanging low in the sky,

thinks of the Fool and his knowledge of lies

 

“If it is truly counsel my queen desires,

then I shall meet her in hell, in her seat by the fire”