And To the king,
The knight and the squire,
Recounting their journey
Of indomitable beasts felled
Through a conflagration
Of ancient evils;
Beautiful magic ineffable.
And just beyond those throne doors
And the court jester stared so,
At the omniscient magician
Holding out one supinated hand
Balled into a fist, as though
She was about to bloom her fingers
And reveal not one,
But two red balls made of sponge.