All about the meaning.

This is a poem about nothing, but everything.

In a forest, by a lake,

a lady gave away her crown,

To a lad of eleven,

Small and elven,

His horse would bray,

about jester's say.

 

In a message of tricks and turns,

There was a boy who witches burned,

And yet he,

who was not a she,

Would pray the best,

Be laid to rest.

 

Upon a hill of sticks and stones,

There lived a goat without a herd,

The dogs that barked,

without a lark,

Would fall and dance,

For a knight's mighty lance.

 

Good friends are those, who are few,

Who's distance kept is always best,

The lies in the water,

Will always falter,

As the best laid bed,

Is never used, it is said.

 

So why be bothered by tall fat tales,

Of the cows, the goats, the merrymen tales.

Stunned by utter disbelief,

The fairies fly with their sheafs.

For the man that was never there,

Will laugh last, and in glory, share.