Poetry
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A ditsy, dizzy diva diving Underneath the bed, Looking for some place to hide Her all-too-well-known head O’ it wouldn’t do to be found Playing cards here in The Hague Gambling-a-bermuda And strip poker with the page. It had started oh so innocent, A conversation with the Queen; First one drink, then another, Then another,
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Once, long ago, in a far away land, across the Great Desert, and hot burning sands, lived a boy who was sad, as sad as could be, for he lived in the top of an enormous, tall tree. “Wait!” You might say, “This does not ring true! What could cause such a boy to be