King Benjamin worked hard
Ruling his kingdom
And toiling in his fields.
He was rarely home
While his wife and the servants were raising his children.
They came to him each night,
Smelling sweet from their baths.
As he sat on his throne,
With his feet on an ottoman
Tired from hoeing and judging.
“Don’t annoy your father”
The queen would warn sharply
As they filed soberly into the room.
He’d ask them a few questions,
Showing proper parental solicitude.
But soon his eyes wandered back to the papers on his lap,
And his mind to the affairs of his kingdom.
Led by the nursemaid,
The children retreated silently
Through formal rooms
Where ministers consulted
And secretaries worked long into the night.
Once in the nursery,
Pillows flew,
Kids jumped and squealed,
The three year-old started to whine,
A braid was pulled,
A brother tackled in retaliation
And calls to bed were met with a chorus of “no.”
first published 1/06
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