If Henry V Were a Modern Lover.

(My mind has been nauseated by an excess of iambic pentameter lines from Shakespeare and I needed to regurgitate them to clear my thoughts. This poem is the antithesis of serious.)

Would I were in a forest of seaweed.
Would I were as a merman does swimming.
   Would I were of a father who dances.
   Would I were never damned to kingship.
Would I were on an island with spiders.
Would I were but a narwhal away from home.

Please do not shut the gate on our pleasure,
  or lay my heart upon the pikes.
   Let our naked selves be
    all we need save
     our God.

     Mock the
    sin of mocking.
   Shall the eyes on this face
  judge you as such a wrangler or
do you want them clos'd to convey you safe?

For we have now no thought in us but us.
For we have now no thought in us but this.
   For we have now no thought in us but how.
   For we have now no thought in us but when.
For we have now no thought in us but fate.
For we have now no thought in us but love.