An Honest Fairy Tale

A long, forgotten time ago

In long-forgotten lands

There lived a pair of lovely twins

Who worked as stablehands.

The first girl was named Allison,

The second, Mirabella.

Both had dreams of rescue

By a prince (or princely fella).

Both were bright and beautiful

And full of youthful vigor,

Their smiles were breezes in the heat

And fires within the frigor.

Allison worked hard all day

Attending to the mules,

Believing that her honest work

Would lead to princely jewels.

Mirabella worked instead

As little as she could,

Aiming to stay soft and clean

As any princess should.

Many peasants came to try

To earn a sister’s heart.

Some were strong or rich or brave

And others still made art.

But neither flowers and poetry

Nor deeds both great and small

Could attract the twins, who wanted

A prince, else none at all.

Allison grew old and strong

And wealthy all the while.

Mirabella just grew old,

But did it with a smile.

There are far fewer princes

Than lovely stablehands

In both the world in which we live

And long-forgotten lands.

Neither twin could find a prince

And neither was a wife

But both, at least, had managed

To live a happy life.

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