long ago and far away
i was served tea on a silver tray
in cups of whitest porcelain
and my reputation was without stain
the servants in their silent shoes
brought me the paper with the morning news
which i perused with a silent prayer
of thanks that such was not my share
of fate to be recorded
in these chronicles of a world disordered
by passions insensible
and demands incomprehensible
even then a faint presentiment
alerted me to what it all meant
as each tray was taken away
marking another vanished day
the servants had no faces
the jam and crumpets left no traces
a silent demon smiled upon
the silken curtains carefully drawn
some day the servants will disappear
and i, ensconced in purple fear
will stand at my window as the dawn
reveals the monsters on the lawn
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