Barely begun their
happily ever after road
The Pied Piper’s bride
the Prussian Princess Petrovna,
imposed on him an impediment
making it loud and evident
that he’d have to retire
that infernal shrill pipe
for it strained her delicate eardrums.

To this edict she added
she was far too refined a lady
of royal bluest blood
for him to escort out in public
in his ratty old yellow and red striped
jacket and matching scarf
that held his cane pipe close.

She insisted she’d gladly pay
the l000 guilders
long-owed to him by the town Mayor,
in return for the peace and freedom
to venture out together
without mobs of rats or ragamuffins
racing like dogs, at their heels.

The Princess protested it wasn’t her problem
if, without his direction,
the vermin should return to rampant
running havoc on Hamelin again
or if flocks of children might miss the music.

She stressed to the Piper
that sometimes, even in fairy tales
one has to just say no.

The poor groom pondered
the sudden lack of support
and knew that “for worse”
was already upon him.

He insisted on one last performance
and that she come along, in the streets
before he would toss his magic pipe
in the river, to give it all up for keeps.

Off they departed, with him in his ritual attire,
and soon they were trailed by the underage mob
whose squeals of delight made him re-inspired.

This time he chose a different route
Petrovna’d never taken
which traversed the murky maze
of the city’s secret underworld.

Close behind his step, she followed
with the children in their wake
when suddenly he wove a path
to a hidden hole in the street.

Down she fell, her fine skirts flipped,
she screamed out the vilest words
while below a nest of the newest rats
licked their lips just in time for her.

The Piper played on, past his last call.
The youngsters clapped and laughed
for this first and final time
their magic music man
ever set his wife a trap.

12/01/2005