Long weary days had King Richard
caught in a daily grind
of meaninless tasks...
and no Queen to ask...
his other sock ...to find

She came one day
by chance... I suppose
to be his Queen and lover

I hear they're
swingin' in the wind
dancein' in the rain and
havin' buttercups for breakfast

As for the lost socks...
like every good Queen
who's a 'luva' unda 'cuva'
she checks the obvious places and
there she finds....
his 'utha's'

and

now all is well with the King