Of turnips, caterpillars and kings:

Here's the donkey's song. "Poor she was, and a peasant, and yet… I carried, I carried a queen, tho not a penny or title had she. She bore no chain of gold round her neck, no royal cloak kept her warm. No painted eyes had she, no perfumed scent wore she. Sun rouged cheeks adorned her face. A simple... Sign in to see full entry.