The King

The King was in his bedroom counting out his money

He rang the bell and shouted bring me bread and honey

The servant climbed the stairs so many to the top

By the time he climbed all the stairs he could hardly breath

Before he knew it he had a big big sneeze the tray he did drop

The King looked at him and shouted idiot look what you have done

I might cut of your head and stick it in a bun

The servant turned and in a fright took heels and he did run

He kept on running and to this day as the story goes

The King is still shouting bring me bread and honey

Now some other poor fool climbes those stairs

One by one until he reaches the top knocks on the door

But what is this I see before the King it is not a servant

With bread and honey it is a robber come for the money

Did the first servant stop running and a plan devise

To rob the king and have a laugh right before his eyes

I guess we will never know one thing I can confirm

The king sits in his counting room worrying about his money

The robber sits in a bluebell field eating bread and honey

No stairs to climb no King to whine no milk and honey to bring

A smile upon his face I see a chucke on his lips

No stairs to climb no trays he will carry

The only thought upon his mind is who should he marry