The Poet & The Princess

The poet stood on the castle grounds beneath the princess’s tower. He cleared his throat loudly and she arrived to her window, at which time, he unrolled his scroll and read to her.

I wish I couldst take my love for thee

And seal it in a pouch not to be torn

Until when lowly poets and royalty

Can speak their love without scorn

“Oh good,” the princess said. “You got the leftovers from the banquet I sent. I was worried the messenger would eat them himself. Anyway, I sealed them using a Foodsaver Vacuum Sealer. Did everything taste fresh? It should!”

The poet nodded, then returned to his scroll.

But for my heart, there is no defender

As though it has been wrapped and tossed

Upon a warm sea that turned it tender

Its outline whole but its fortitude lost

“Yes,” said the princess, “You’re right: much of the meat from the banquet was sous vide. We use the Foodsaver for that too. After all, you have to seal the food before placing it in the water oven. In fact, in many ways, it’s more useful as a sous vide prep device than for its actual main use.”

The poet nodded, then returned to his scroll.

I beg: move your love to a shelf of ice

Do not give it to one with title or crown

I promise thee it will be just as nice

Whence comes the day I may take it down

“That’s another great thing about the Foodsaver,” said the princess. “No freezer burn. Because it’s sealed. Anyway, I hope you froze whatever you didn’t eat. I know you really rely on these banquet leftovers. You’re a poet after all. You’re not exactly the type of person who should just be letting food go bad.”

The poet nodded, then returned to his scroll, but found the poem was done. He looked back up to princess. There fell an awkward silence.

“So,” said the princess, after a moment, “how are things? I mean, other than the poetry or whatever.”