Lady_and_the_lord

Lady and the Lord

 

In the surf I sat, watching it unfold-
The lady on her cloud, drawn in purple crayon-
And the lord, he bowed, gilded all in gold-
The scene he whispered, must play on.

And in the too and fro, the lady she was bright-
Floating for the touch of any who were able-
And in the bye and bye, the lord he was a sight-
Setting out the tables.

Genghis Khan, he had nothing-
On this raptured lady-
And the Mongols they were frothing-
To call the lord matey.

The crowds, they began to gather-
Waiting for the purple veil to split-
Some of them, they said they would rather-
Be ripped apart – than forcibly submit.

The lady, she was a sister of Mona Lisa-
Came floating in with a smile and a yearn-
The lord, he was angry with the peace-aye
To be right and true she must burn.

The crowd they cut her up with oyster shells-
Mother of pearl in human hands-
The lord he watched in tinker bells-
And sent them back to foreign lands.

But the lady she was drawn in purple crayon-
And the shells they cut only paper-
And in another place the crowd said “play on”-
As they drank the blood of their caper.

-Michael Harris