I am the laird of these lands
he says—and I smile
a patchwork prince
in threadbare clothes
barefoot in the grass
crooked staff in hand
he flings out his arms
to claim his dominion
grinning wider than the sky
he basks in his liberty
beholding to none
and I think
he is the richest lord of all
Happy birthday, Joelique.
With love,
Such a lovely poem. And by all accounts, he IS the richest lord of all, to have such a tender and light poem dedicated to his name. :)
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