Royalty
Past the fields and just beyond the glade,
There exists a land, where dreams are made.
A place that’s bathed in golden sunshine…
Wrapped in harmony… peaceful and sublime.
Rosy children skip there joyfully free,
Having tasted the fruit of the happiness tree.
Hale and hearty, their teeth, flawless straight…
A successful life will be each babe’s fate.
Little girls, who will one day become wives,
Are blessed, by birth, with fairly tale lives.
Pageant beauties, each trim and healthy,
Will marry high and wind up wealthy.
Yes, there is a land of quiet bliss…
A world that’s sweeter than a honey kiss.
A place suited for the soul’s expansion…
The fabled land of the Jersey Mac-Mansion.
Stash