The Tale Of King Midas

This is the tale of an ancient king

Who loved all thing that pleasure brings

Who as a babe at sleep in bed

A trail of ants marched to his lips and fed

The young prince as he lay asleep

With the choicest grains of wheat

Midas grew and gathered wealth

With which he might enjoy himself

But more than wealth, his fingers were green

To he loved to prune and weed and clean

His garden, every sort of rose

He planted there and watched them grow

One day the old satyr Silenus

The teacher and friend of young Dionysus

Had straggled, drunken, from the crowd

And staggering lost and singing aloud

Then he sleepy off the wine in Midas’ Garden

(he better pray that Midas gives him Pardon)

Silenus woke and by guard was brought

Before Midas in the palace court

What brings you here, I would like to know

‘Did you harm any of my roses.?’

You didn’t !?

Silenus. Take your pleasure

And dine and drink to double measure

So Silenus,the old fun loving Satyr

Grew steadily more drunk and fatter

All merrily the old soul chaffed

King Midas who with him laughed

And when both had ate and drank their sate

Silenus did this tale relate

And he told a story to the king

Of lands where he’d been wandering

(perhaps yarns spun from his dreams)

of lands beyond the oceans stream

peopled by folk of long life and health

with very vast amounts of wealth

Now Midas listened good and well

To all silenus had to tell

And wehen the story

Came to end

He said please do point the way my friend

For though Midas had more wealth than he would ever

Need

He was overcome by greed

So he sent ships and many men

To sail the hyperborean

With eager brave intent to find

A land that existed only in Silenus’ mind

And since no such place was found by Midas’ men

They turned the fleet

And sailed home again

Silenus loved to loaf around

All day about the palace grounds

He grew indolent and quite lazy

And ate and drank all he could see

He thought” This is the life,

Good stuff !

But by now the king had had enough

By now the lord Dionysus

Was much concerned for his lost friend Silenus

Though not far need he search or roam

For Midas sent the old man home

And most pleased was the young god-boy

For Silenus was his favourite friend and joy

So Dionysus sent his gratitude to the king

Does Lord Midas require anything

For the Lord Dionysus will grant

Anything the king may want

And so the messenger was told

May all that Midas touch be turned to gold

And all that Midas touched upon

Turned to gold and brightly shone

Midas’table and his throne

And all the contents of his home

And soon he had turned everyone

To gold

Even his wife and sons

All this wealth it brought no good

For Midas could not drink nor eat his food

Not a morsel could be ate

But all turned to gold upon his plate

Golden fruits and golden meat

Golden wine and golden wheat

And so the days they did pass by

And a very hungered king did cry

That he did not want

No he could not stand

His golden stores of treasure grand

for he was hungry,thirsty, weak and dry

And not a morsel could that treasure buy

The poor king Midas he did sigh

If he did not eat he soon would die

Alone he blubberd in despair

He cursed himself and tore his hair

He could not stand it any more

So he crawled half dead to Dionysus door

So thirsty, famished, very thin

Midas begged Dionysus to release him

From the blessing that had become his curse

For what fate could be any worse

Midas begged, he cried implored

That life be restored

As it were before

The god he drank

Deeply perusing

He found the matter quire amusing

But although he laughed at Midas suffering

He had some compassion for the king

He said “ I hope you have learned your lesson well

Midas listened to what he had to tell

At the source of the river Pactolus

Near the mount of Tmolus

Ther you may drink and wash yourself

And be restored to natural health

And all your golden treasures stored

Shall all become as they were before

So Midas journeyed west to seek

The water spring near the mountains peak

His thirst was as a burning flame

But travelling onward soon he came

Upon the mountain

When he saw it’s water

He broke down and cried with tears and laughter

They asy that Midas was so relieved

That never again did he ever greed

He learned that his greatest treasure was his life

His health, his sons and wife

The sands of the river’Pactolus” some say

Are golden to this very day

        by Mark Hurlin Shelton