Trevligt Att Träffas!

The Queen of Sweden was known for her haughtiness:

“Are fishermen starving?  Well, let them eat hake”

But she wasn’t above a little Nordic naughtiness

With Oddmund and Olov in a shed by the lake.

But even in bed she would buck like a bronco

And only Italian wine would feed her

Lust, so Oddmund plied her with plonko

While Olov sang snatches from Verdi’s Aida.

Oddmund, exhausted by his efforts to mount her,

Bumped into the King on his way to the Court,

Which proved to be a murderous encounter,

And Sweden from that day was one courtier short.

Daunted by the prospect of flying solo,

Olov visited all the vinters in town

And, buttressed by bottles of the finest Barolo,

Posted his packet till the sun came down.

The following morning the Queen of Sweden

Awoke with a headache and a smile on her face

To learn on the wireless that Sir Anthony Eden

Had resigned and Macmillan had taken his place.

She did up her leggings, feeling far from gloomy,

And hurried to Henrik, her husband, who was in

Flagrante delicto with Nilsine and Noomi

And Pernilla and Krista and Lotta and Linn.

“What are you doing?” she said.  “This is so ödd.”

But her words struck Henrik as somewhat banal.

And from that day forth she swore before God

To keep her course tight as the Suez Canal.