The Queen of Hearts

The queen of hearts
She made some tarts,
All on a summer’s day;
The knave of hearts
He stole those tarts,
And with them ran away.
The king of hearts
Called for those tarts,
And beat the knave full sore;
The knave of hearts
Brought back those tarts,
And said he’d steal no more.

The king of spades
He kissed the maids,
Which vexed the queen full sore;
The queen of spades
She beat those maids,
And turned them out of door.
The knave of spades
Grieved for those jades,
And did for them implore,
The queen so gent,
She did relent,
And vowed she’d strike no more.

The king of clubs
He often drubs
His loving queen and wife.
The queen of clubs
Returns him snubs,
And all is noise and strife.
The knave of clubs
Gives winks and rubs,
And swears he’ll take her part,
For when our kings
Will do such things,
They should be made to smart

The diamond king
I fain would sing,
And likewise his fair queen.
But that the knave,
A haughty slave,
Must needs step in between,
“Good diamond king,
With hempen string
This haughty knave destroy,
Then may your queen,
With mind serene,
Your royal love enjoy.”

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End of Queen of Hearts - More Rhyming Stories