Classic Poem

The scullion of the queen was grieved because
She had refused to lend a favorite sigh
Of hers to stain the lightness of his cake.
Boldly, he had demanded also one
Long petal from the winter of her mind,
To serve as fertile icing for his tarts,
And one reproachful color from her heart
To rescue the deficiencies of taste,
And one bewildered promise from her soul
To bring his cakes a new release of shape.
The queen replied that he must first devise
These gifts within the tortured industry
Of his imagination, and that when
This task was done he would not need the more
Intangible corrections of a queen.