Poem: "Petty Problems"

This poem was inspired by a prompt from ladyqkat directing my attention to certain posts by ladysprite.  I am well pleased to discover these, and hope I have done them justice in this poem.

The Faerie Queen's court is bright and gay ...
With pets less than simple, so they say.

Seven years' service seemed a small price
For a scholarship and good advice.

Little I knew of the things I'd face,
Serving as vet to the faerie race.

A jackalope with a broken horn,
A parlor-maid's missing unicorn,

A troll complaining about his goats,
A centaur sick from feeling his oats,

A werewolf suffering from a cough,
A basilisk's claw near falling off,

Teacup griffins that eat their own legs,
Emergencies with cracked dragon eggs --

Is it any wonder I've gone spare,
Trying to balance the here and There?

Though they're petty problems, to be sure,
The hell they make of my days is pure.

I know that all jobs have parts that suck,
But on sabbat-eves, I curse my luck.

The city's no place for faerie kin,
But some of them love it, and stay in.

How could I blame them?  I live here too.
In faerie land, I'm just passing through.

My time near done, She asks if I'll stay,
Or part with Magic.  What could I say?

I choose my hopes, instead of my fears.
"Yes, Your Majesty.  Seven more years."