Queen Of Dried Fruit
A sultan many years ago
was lounging on his patio
and eating grapes fresh from the vine
that had a mellow yellow shine.
A sultan is a kind of king
who never cleans up anything.
He didn’t finish all the bunch
before he went inside for lunch.
His naughty servants didn’t care
and left the plate of grapes out there.
With all the sun and wafting breeze
those grapes dried to the size of peas.
Their wrinkly skins now golden brown
provoked the king to make a frown.
But thinking they were some new treat
those old dry grapes he tried to eat!
The servants feared he might get ill
then one of them he’d want to kill.
But as he chewed he tapped his feet
then said, Yum-yum. They taste so sweet!
Their name’s sultana, like my wife.
The queen of all that’s sweet in life.
But was it that he also knew
she’d soon go brown and wrinkly too?
I really enjoyed the rhyme and rhythm in this poem.