O for a Muse of Fire?

Oh for a muse of toddlers,
That can ascend the brightest heaven of invention,
Princesses act,
Momarch's behold the swelling scene.

Then should the war-like Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars
and at his heels, leashed in like hounds,
do Panda, Helen and Hope crouch for employment.

Oh, I could mangle the Swan of Avon for the entire soliloquy but I'll not. Instead the unexpurgated dialogue of the morning:


"Har, har! Arrgghhh," the Verbalist cried jumping into the room where his sisters are quietly eating cereal. "You've got pirate eye now. You see things my way and do as I say."

"NO!" bellows the Muralist jumping down from her chair. "ZAP! ZAP! My ray gun shoots and now everyone has," here she pauses for dramatic effect, "princess eyes." She finishes with a flutter of eyelashes and a syrupy sweet tone in her voice. Climbing back up to the table, calmly goes back to her cereal bowl.