First weigh out an ounce of King,
Who’s kind and good, that sort of thing,
Then you add a Princess fair,
With bright blue eyes and golden hair,
Whisk until it’s really thick,
And sweet enough to make you sick,
To counteract this saccharine,
Add a scheming, evil queen.
Fill her up with spells and hate,
And sprinkle with a pinch of fate.
Three tablespoons of witchcraft,
Will add a certain spice,
Add a fairy to the bowl,
And perhaps a few white mice,
Defrost a dragon,
Kneed it in,
Then chill ‘till very cold,
And whisk in very liberally,
Pure and glinting gold.
A forest and a magic tower,
And a Prince in shining armour,
All combine to create,
A certain sense of drama.
Add two more cups of magic,
And blend it all together,
To help the flavour add a storm,
Or some other weather.
Bake for 100 years at gas mark 4,
Then if it seems quite bland,
Sprinkle with a royal marriage,
And peace across the land.
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