There was an Old country,
with mountains and mists, rivers and valleys, woodlands and orchards, birds and beasts,
And it has a king, But who is a king?
A king is a man. Only an over-built man.
And he had a throne.
What is a throne?
A throne is a chair.
Only an over-wrought chair.
The king put his throne on a high place and sat on it when he came before the people.
That made him look bigger than others.
He wore silks and gems, crowns and diadems.
He carried swords and spears, bows and arrows.
This made him look grand.
Though a little like and over loaded camel.
But people were impressed. There was no such person here they lived.
Even in their circuses and operas.
This as a real king.
And this pleased the king to know.
For the kings want others to think about them. Always.
And in the same country was another man.
A small man like other small men.
But he has a bright eye, a keen mind and a sweet tongue.
And while most people talked about themselves,
he talked about other things.
Like the snows on the mountains
or butterflies in the morning sun, or the star shine at midnight.
And he sang songs about them.
That came to people as a breath of fresh air.
Leading them to see a little further than themselves.
Leading them to feel they were part of a larger world.
One Sunday morning , as her often did, the king held a court in the open ground.
outside his palace. And the whole country came to see him, including the little man.
The day was beautiful. The sky was the deepest blue.
And a white cloud floated in the middle of it like a dream boat.
At the fixed hour, The king's drums rolled and the king's bugles blew.
And the king glittered in his diadems.
But a soft ind rose along the grass.
It blew on the people's backs and up into the skies.
And the white cloud moved.
"look", said the little man. And everyone turned around and gasped.
The cloud went by. And the snow peaks came into view.
"Oh", said everyone with his eyes on the snow peaks.
No one would look at the king.
The king felt crest fallen. and he left in a huff.
The courtiers tried to pacify him.
all days will not be as fair as today, your Majesty, they said.
But he was not satisfied. Their advice as no advice.
He had to have a queen . From across the frontier.
Whom he could consult insecret.
So came the queen. But who is a queen?
A queen is a woman.
Only an over-dressed woman.
She is padded and pearled. She is painted and manicured.
But she was clever. The king told her his fears.
Dont bother, my dear, she said. I know the answers.
After all, have studied in the Harvard Business School.
And she knew.
It is'nt enough today for kings to hold court.
Those bugle notes do not cross a field.
And all that fold and glitter is lost at twenty yards.