A Dream of England

I had a dream, on a lovely summer night
A prince there stood; beckoned me for a flight
Shall we go to England, my princess dear?
I am the knight born to give thee good cheer.

Let us not head into the palace grounds
Til’ the awe of England thy eyes abound.
I’ll take thee dear to Stratford-on-Avon
To William Shakespeare thy will come upon.

Thy will be my Juliet and I, Romeo
For true love hath struck thus before we know
Only savor not, the poisoned potion
I’ll offer thee them love and devotion.

I’ll take thee to the streets arrayed with bricks
Lighted medieval lamps, hollowed sticks
Stone pavements bear the palace horses’ trails
Corroded walls smell of the madman’s ale.

And there were tales, of the Knight and the Cook
They’ll gladly come to life from Chaucer’s book
Of the Miller, Summoner and the Friar
Of valor, charity, humor and fire.

Think not my dear; of pride and prejudice
The lady Jane been deprived of love’s bliss
Societal etiquettes, false religions
Them hinder not my pledge of allegiance.

Take my hand dear as we ascend the boat
Looking at the stars by the Thames we float
That is the London Bridge, my princess fair
It is enchanting, yes, as is thy stare.

Now to the grand palace of Buckingham
Feast your eyes on the gold, lovely Madam
And if hungry still, come see the gardens
Rest assured it’s still England, not heaven.

These places thee have thou desired, but wait
Did thou doth think I forget the last bait?
Nah, we are going to 221B Baker Street
The hawk-like nosed detective we will meet.

But promise me yet another thing, dear
Ask not Sherlock what he thinks, for I fear
As he smokes his cigar and starts to beam
Says he, “Mi Lady, tis all but a dream.”

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My dreamy 100th poem. :-)