My King Undressed
He rises firm necked with the sun, calling servants from the day
Dawnbreak’s cry for fervent palm and guile of masculinity
He stands aloud before begins the stir, to service of his ways
Putting all my civil qualms aside from warm vicinity
All men know this potent balm and call - this will that
cannot be ignored. For these are the orders of this king
crowned in ascent, and I must bow to his fertility.