The Forlorn Sea
Our Princess marriedA fairy King,It was a sensationalWedding.Now they live in a palaceOf porphyry,Far, far awayBy the fòrlorn sea.Sometimes people visit them,Last week they invited me;That is how I can tell youThey live by a fòrlorn sea.(They said: Here's a magic carpet,Come on this,And when you arriveWe will give you a big kiss.)I play in the palace garden,I climb the sycamore tree,Sometimes I swimIn the fòrlorn sea.The King and the Princess are shadowy,Yet beautifulThey are waited on by white cats,Who are dutiful.It is like a dreamWhen they kiss and cuddle me,But I like it, I like it,I do not wish to break free.So I eat all they give meBecause I have readIf you eat fairy foodYou will never wake up in your own bed,But will go on living,As has happened to me,Far, far awayBy a fòrlorn sea.
Stevie Smith (1902-1971) is a favorite of mine, especially the poetry. Her sketches (as above) are fun, too.
Why is there a grave accent over the o in 'the fòrlorn sea?' Who knows? But it works somehow...