In the Land of Nodedah or Late One Night in Shushan
His ticket to The Land of Nod was counterfeit, it seemed
An irksome something woke the King, just when he thought he dreamed
With bleary eyes he raised his Royal finger for room service
They clustered round their mighty Shah, whom sleeplessness made nervous
The Royal brow, unsmooth and furrowed, crowned a red-rimmed gaze
Attendants raced to offer nostrums, physiks; loaded trays
Physicians, aides, consulted how the King might be sedated
Their goal was clear, His Majesty must be Decaffeineated
A cataract of curatives, correctives from each servant
Each swore his cure was guaranteed, each eloquent and fervent:
An orchestra! A valet called. A circus! Cried a page.
An opera by Puccini! (Though he was not the rage)
A silent film (before its time) here’s one with bouncing rhyme
Less noise, The King spoke testily.
Well then, perhaps a mime?
Each vied for more attention, each elbowed his next neighbor
But Achashvay just groaned, and spoke: Desist, you all belabor
My mood is strange and ruminous, I feel for something plain
A chapter from our Chronicles, the record of my reign
Let’s have the latest happenings, what’s new around the Palace
But just the facts, let’s keep it clean, no gossip, boys, or malice
And drop a memorandum to the fools who staff my kitchen
No coffee after five pm, caffeine has got me twitchen
The King then lent his royal ear to hear a tale recounted…
And Mordechai in splend’rous robes soon on the king’s horse mounted
And led by Haman, surly groom, who planned a genocide
But all along Hashem was there, to turn the fearsome tide.
And thus remind us each Adar that even secretly
And even when He’s hidden well, He’s always on our side.
V’Nahapoch… a Freilichen Purim