The Moon is Made of Blue Cheese

May 26, 2008 at 5:39 pm (poems)

Tonight, the Moon is made of blue cheese

Knights and bishops frolick around

Chess pieces all prim and proper

Dressed up in petty tail coats and Victorian gowns to the nines

Black Kings and White Queens dine with the pawns

High atop castles in eight by eights

Overlooking the vampires ice-skating far below.

(friendly ones, mind you, or we’d all be keeping our distance)

 

Pixies and other little folk sipping tea from tiny pieces of china

Halflings – some call them; though they go by many other names.

Puss in boots with his rollicking stinger

Swash and goes, swash and goes!

 

Eye patch, wooden peg, rusty old hook-for-a-hand

Ahoy sailor! Scurvy, mate! Watch out for them ‘lil ones!

Tipsily stepping out of line to block a careless thrust

The pirates are all swashbuckling wasted again–

Blistering barnacles stranded upon the rocks.

 

Chugging back rum and ale, heartily mingling with the elves;

Lustily singing as only pirates do with the garden gnomes.

Ah, those wizen, old gnomes-

Though loathe to admit, the gnomes hitched a ride from the unicorns.

(or they’d never quite have made it in time)

 

Gingerly, amidst it all, the gingerbread man threads

Careful not to get stomped on by the mountain troll

Club still swinging carelessly about in hand

Nimbly dodging the grubby hand full of crumbs

Stuffed into mouth amidst peals of more throaty laughter.

 

Alas! There’s no escaping the claws of the dragon

Last of its kind, majestic, kingly, if you will

Chinese red, fire scorching

Not the arctic European breed with its icy breath and blue horn.

The hoard of treasure it guards, no one knows, nor cares-

But only for tonight.

(after all, who doesn’t fancy a precious jewel or two?)

 

The guest of honour! Alice from Wonderland

Heard she’s come a long way now.

With her she brings the Cheshire cat

Or what’s left of him, at least

That same sly, crafty ol’ grin,

More in anticipation than anything else.

 

With bated breath; the Finale!

Fireworks for one and all!

TIMBRE!” someone shouts in the distance

and everyone looks up into the night sky-

 

Blue and Yellow and Red and Silver and Rainbow

Every conceivable colour in an artist’s palette

Exploding brilliantly into the sky,

Sprinkled everywhere and on everyone with just a dash of fairydust

Most of it falls neatly into the mermaids’ lagoon

Playing with their sun-coloured flowing locks

Golden tresses were never prettier.

 

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