Inside the Pearl

As I opened the door,
I saw . . .
bright golden rings,
and all sorts of colourful things.
The art was dark and light,
but the fashion was busy and bright.
The flowers were big, fragile and pretty.
Am I in a magical city?

I could hardly see,
through these gowns in front of me.
All the time the music was so dramatic,
I felt pretty claustrophobic.
I saw the king wearing a wig,
and my, my it was very big.
There were chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling,
all glittering and appealing.

The wine came first,
when the food came the guests nearly burst.
There were pomegranates and pears,
none of them ever fit to be served at fairs.
For dessert we had creme brûlée,
with poached pears on the side served with not a minute of delay.
the food was cooked to perfection,
obviously . . . since that was the cooks profession.

The opera story was of a king,
that would sing,
in a rhyme,
all the time.
Though not for his queen,
for he was not very lean.
The opera was exuberant,
I could not even tear myself away to get a mint.

Is this place the grand Versailles,
or is it just a silly old lie?

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