By Appointment to Her Majesty The Queen
by Bruin Fisher
Her Majesty in regal style
in blue with woolly vest
Waves and nods her perma-smile
again what she does best.
The carriage, gilt, with footmen,
Moves slowly through St James' Park.
Roofless, so she can
Unless of course it gets too dark.
With her, in
state, her husband sits
His smile less sure, less warm, less
His place as consort is the pits,
See his pallid grin
The crowd, as ever, wave their flag
their glimpse of glove
Held up, just so, to match the bag
clutches in her lap with love.
At last the carriage slows and
By Marks and Sparks and Safeway too.
He follows her
around the shops.
Poor Ma'am, she's not like me or you!
© Bruin Fisher January 2008
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