Sestina of the Court Jester

I face you, king, and hope my knees don’t quiver.

Your leg rests skittishly before your throne.

Your crown jabs the ceiling, a vicious ornament,

but I am smitten with its teeth! I face you

and swiftly I fold, a bow, my hat giggling—

bells too gentle beneath your thundering majesty.

-

Here, reverence dies, splendiferous Majesty;

Here, I encroach to capture your frown’s quiver

and send it dancing, for I shall see you giggling!

Only knaves could juggle a crown and throne

as hands propel a dozen eggs in the air before you.

Unshakeable are your lips and gilded ornament.

-

My hat flies past candle clouds—vibrant ornament!

Poised to catch, I look up, aghast! Vacant majesty

brags the jester. A hunter’s smirk ensnares you

as a parachute kisses my palm. Quivering,

your headdress releases the hand of the throne;

I reach out ambiguity and you eye it, giggling.

-

Such mystery (and my secret sends me giggling),

such suspense exceeds the royal ornament;

how courtiers bleed from ruby knives throned

upon pillows of silken velvet. “Majesty!

I announce, “A crown of ether!” Quivering,

virginal lust blinds your sagacity; of fancy you

-

knew a different kind. All eyes fix on you,

yet mine tantalize the crown, silently giggling.

Your hands defrock your head without quiver;

with papal pas de chat, my form shadows ornament.

Sparing gluttony, palms enfold the crest of majesty!

Kingly burden I lay atop a pillar—an impermanent throne.

-

With glee I face your end, spectacle! for on his throne

a man is lost in youth’s idyllic play. I face you,

coronet; charmed courtiers face the Jester Majesty.

I face you, unnatural fog, and spring forward giggling

as hands that juggled for the royal now swipe his ornament.

The pillar in mist seats a belled hat, slightly aquiver.

* * *

I see you adorned with a new bejeweled ornament,

O juvenile majesty. Sometimes I see it quiver,

unanchored, and remember you giggling upon the throne.

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