By Rose Choron

A stream divided two small lands.
But my oh my! They were not friends.
Their rulers did not even bother
To get to know or see each other.

Daisyland’s people were all crazy
About their beautiful Queen Daisy.
They loved her. She was good and kind,
And always of a cheerful mind,
Cared for the poor, the sick, the old
Made sure no one felt starved or cold.

At Easter, from morn until dark,
Children swarmed to her royal park
To look for chocolate eggs galore,
Hidden for them the night before

And Christmas eve a cheering queue
Stood waiting for hot turkey stew,
Cookies, cakes, honeybuns and more,
Offered at the queen’s palace door.

In Daisyland’s democracy
People had fun, felt fit and free.
They lived in houses pink and white,
With daisies everywhere in sight.

                Butterfly fantasy

King Poppy, on the other shore,
Was a dictator, sad and sore.
He wore dark glasses, a black beard,
looked grim and gloomy, was much feared.
The poor guy had no family,
No friends, no love, no sympathy.
He sat all day, bored and alone,
Upon his pompous golden throne.

Poppyland’s streets were dirty, dark.
There were no playgrounds and no park.
Houses looked grimy, old and grey
And people did not have a say.
They were poor, hungry and unhappy,
No one had fun, no one felt peppy.
The countryside was dry and bare
except for poppies everywhere.

King Poppy had but one desire,
That was to build a great empire.
So he plotted, schemed and planned
To raid and conquer Daisyland.

Queen Daisy’s National Holiday
Took place the twenty first of May.
Then all came to participate,
To cheer the queen, and celebrate.
She offered goodies all day long,
While people played and sang, her song.


                 Butterfly fantasy

That was the day the king had picked
To attack, conquer and evict
Queen Daisy and her population,
And annex her entire nation.

With cannons, guns, in uniform,
Against a sudden thunder storm,
He took his chance, began to cross
The old, worn bridge, covered with moss.
It broke and his men started to scream
While they all fell into the stream.
Through wind and rain, they swam ashore,
Dropping whatever clothes they wore.
The king, wet in his underwear,
Looked just like any soldier there.
He lost his glasses, crown and ring,
And no one took him for a king.
Feeling defeated, tired and lame,
He even forgot why he came.

When they reached Queen Daisy’s place,
Everyone stepped aside, made space
For these strange, wet, half-naked guys,
And wondered: were they friends or spies?

Then the king rose, and took the stand,
Said: “I’m the king of Poppyland!”
They laughed and thought it was a joke.
One kidded: “Where’s your royal cloak?”

                    Butterfly fantasy

But the queen, taken by surprise,
As always, generous and wise,
Said: “Give them food and things to wear!
Let’s welcome them and share
Whatever we have to spare.

The moment he perceived the queen,
The likes of whom he’d never seen,
The king fell hopelessly in love,
And became gentle like a dove,
Dropped to his knees, asked for her hand,
Proposed to share his life and land.

The queen had liked him at first sight
And thus to everyone’s delight,

they married amidst many friends,

named “Popsidaisy” their joined lands
Poppies and daisies in their hair
Replaced the crowns that monarchs wear.
They lived most happily thereafter,
With lots of children, fun and laughter

All this shows that love heals and mends,
And turns old foes into new friends.


© Copyright Rose Choron. All Rights Reserved

(Besides children's poems and stories, Rose wrote a well reviewed book "Family Stories, Travels Beyond The Shtetel" (Pangloss Press) See: www.Amazon.com

                          Butterfly fantasy