The Jester

The jester appears with his harlequin sleeves
The crowd has now gathered up to the eaves
They await his act gasping, then holding their air
His jingling hat ringed with fiery hair

He tumbles so drunkenly, yet never falls
He points and he sneers, looking sad then appalled
The spectators grasping so tightly their sides
The laughter it floods like a leveling tide

He hands the girls roses and coyly he smiles
The men see their maidens blush all the while
They shake their fists sternly then laugh just the same
The jester he revels in a common man’s fame

He once had such promise, born for the stage
Yet his backstage transgressions elicited rage
He used his coy smile to coax many a patron
And finally soiled the name of a maiden

Her father a powerful town benefactor
He glazed him in red as he hung from a rafter
Once he was cut down his beauty was marred
His body was bloody his face was left scarred

So now he would dance and play to the masses
Joke with the lads and flirt with the lasses
He could conjure a smile that gave all folks their jollies
For not one here knew his most wanton of follies