Clarity of Vision

My entry for Pseu’s poetry competition. As Dahl-esque verses go, mine is probably more dhall tarka.

A Monarch of a distant land
A longish jaunt from Samarkand
Was portly, short, but amply blessed
With hubris, pride and gross conceit,
A pair of size eleven feet,
A fondness for all types of meat
And fashionably dressed.

He summoned tailors from his realm
His subjects he would overwhelm
“A suit to end all suits”, he cried,
“It must be smart, and rich, and posh,
“And stylish, not some shapeless tosh,
“I do not care about the dosh.
“I shall not be denied.”

The tailors schemed, then schemed some more
They’d faced this problem oft before
How could they please their royal master?
They’d tried new weaves, new cuts, new braid
But every garment that they’d made
Had somehow failed to make the grade
And ended in disaster.

Then Bernie – young apprentice he –
Exclaimed with unconcealéd glee
“I have it now, let’s con the blighter
“We’ll tell him of some magic thread
“That caters for the nobly bred
“And makes them seem less over-fed –
“A good ten kilos lighter.”

The Court was primed, the lackeys bribed;
They waited ’til their liege arrived.
“Oh how exquisitely you’re dressed.
“You seem, your Majesty, so slim.
“Oh look how well it flatters him
“And makes him look so young and trim
“Your tailors are the best.”

The king was pleased, to say the least
He ordered wine, and then a feast.
“Our serfs must see my new attire
“We’ll make a big parade of it
“They’ll see their Lord as strong and fit
“This suit will be a certain hit
“They’ll cheer to see their Sire”

The people lined the streets, and cheered
As king and courtiers appeared.
They waved their flags and shouted loud
Their greetings to their overlord
No hint of any being bored
Their voices rose with one accord
A most respectful crowd.

Save one young boy, an infant still,
In piping voice, with tones so shrill,
A dreadful childish sin commits –
“I know that man’s our king, our Mum
“You’ll prob’ly think I’m awfully dumb
“But tell me if you please, how come
I can see his dangly bits?