1969...
nter Good Queen
Bess the Second
undoubtedly the
proudest mum in all the land
she carries an
umbrella
not a sceptre in her
hand
in case the sun does
not come out as planned
yon common wind is
overbold
conspiring to
displace the royal hair
it must be this
season’s treason
but never fear
though leaden skies
may drizzle down on gold
mere rain won’t
stop play
pomp &
circumstance will save the day
our reigning
sovereign rules OK
imposing pageantry
proceeds on cue
now live on stage
our glorious
heritage
the star of the show
sits pretty on a
modest throne
poised waiting to
receive his crown
behold a tableau
vivant for the tabloids
they pose for the
official photos
like three waxwork
dummies from Madame Tussauds
we humble subjects
venerate
such trappings of
state
fanfares
applause
a grand procession
with a measured pace
& not a foot put
wrong
the crowd is moved
then moved along
