Our fair maidens met some eons ago

In a marvellously mythical land

Where philosopher queens reign supreme

And all hail the writer’s hand

In their world, the moon holds wisdoms

That the stars doth tussle to know

But his Moonship reserves for our princesses

The keys to his luminous glow

And with this gift our ladies wave

The tips of their glittery wands

Frolicking about without any doubt

That theirs is a sacred bond

In their kingdom they oft dance til sunrise

Sharing a world of boundless glee

Where noblewomen twirl in gowns of lace

That smell like potpourri

Chatter doth flood the sandy shores

Of their creatively cultivated soils

Our girls are seldom bereft of a topic

In which they’re not utterly embroiled

Wealth is of idle concern to our maidens

Uggh! Such puffery bores them stiff

They’d far prefer to spend their dimes

Tapping about to a jolly good riff

These two, our bosom buddies

Will forever each other adore

And on any given day, they will always say

One gives the other wings to sore