A guest blog from Her Majesty the Queen

It seems that the would be Laureate Mr. Andrew Green was put out that One did not include a ‘shout out’, as he chooses to put it, for his book Begging Your Pardon – Please Can I Be Laureate? in one’s Christmas Message. One has apologised of course but a few words here seemed the least one could do to make up.

2018 has been a year of centenaries. The Royal Air Force celebrated its hundredth anniversary with a memorable fly-past demonstrating a thrilling unity of purpose and execution. We owe them and all our armed services our deepest gratitude and 100 years on from the ending of World War 1 we should not forget the poets who brought the horrors of war to life for us. Who can forget Wilfred Owen who died so tragically days before the armistice? We recall that his mother received the telegram informing her of his death on Armistice Day as the church bells in Shrewsbury were ringing out in celebration of the wars end. One likes poetry and will be putting in a word for Mr. Green to be the next Poet Laureate. It would be handy for one with him living so close to Windsor. One’s there most week-ends and never knows when a quick couplet might be called for.

It has been a busy year for my family. With two weddings and two babies and another child expected soon. I loved Mr. Green’s poem for Harry and Meghan’s wedding though it was a little disrespectful here and there and I have warned him to pull his socks off. We don’t do the ‘off with his head’ bit any more but we still have standards. Harry enjoyed it but we know about his sense of humour and the trouble it gets him into. Meghan wasn’t awfully sure; a bit to British for her one expects.

It all helps to keep a grandmother well occupied. We have had other celebrations too, including the 70th birthday of the Prince of Wales. I forgot to buy him a card and have heard about nothing else all year. Charles thinks one is becoming forgetful and should think of retiring.

Some cultures believe a long life brings wisdom. I’d like to think so. Perhaps, part of that wisdom is to recognize some of life’s baffling paradoxes such as why everything one enjoys eating or drinking is so bad for one. One has eaten so much this Christmas and would like to go on a diet in the New Year but all the beastly banquets make that so difficult for one.

In April the Commonwealth Heads of Government met in London. My father welcomed just eight countries to the first such meetings in 1948. Now, the Commonwealth includes 53 countries with 2.4 billion people, a third of the world’s population. Its strength lies in the bonds of affection it promotes and a common desire to live in a better, more peaceful world. It’s important to build friendships around the world especially when we are struggling to get on with the neighbours.

One’s nervous of mentioning the Brexit thing, every one gets so cross with each other’s and one’s running out of relatives one can marry off to take people’s mind off it.

Even with the most deeply held differences, treating the other person with respect and as a fellow human being is always a good first step towards greater understanding. Indeed the Commonwealth Games held this year on Australia’s Gold Coast are known universally as the friendly games because of their emphasis on good will, mutual respect and not inviting the Americans, Chinese or European’s. We send four British teams instead of one and win stacks more medals than we would otherwise. We love it.

The Christmas story retains its appeal since it doesn’t provide theoretical explanations for the puzzles of life. Instead, it’s about the birth of a child, and the hope that birth 2,000 years ago, brought to the world. Only a few people acknowledged Jesus when he was born; now billions follow him. I believe his message of peace on earth and goodwill to all and unexpected success is never out of date. It can be heeded by everyone; not least obscure poets!!

A very happy Christmasto you all and may Mr. Green and his poetry thrive in the New Year!

Oh and buy the book or, if one’s to poor, get the kindle version.

How wise were the Kings?

Why did the Kings bring stupid gifts

Like gold and myrrh and frankincense?

I guess us men just hate to shop.

Thy couldn’t use the internet

Or google it for baby things.

They should have left it to their wives.

Who’d leave shopping down to Kings?

Although it’s said that they were wise

What man’s wiser than his wife?

Dont overspend this Christmas

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Don’t overspend this Christmas.

Don’t get yourself in debt.

Don’t overspend this Christmas.

There really is no point.

You  escalate your spending

And others spend more too.

They’re spending money

they haven’t got

and getting in debt for you.

Be nice to your friends and neighbours

Spread good cheer with a smile

But don’t go overspending

It’s really not the point.

Simple gifts from shepherds

Symbolic ones from Kings.

It’s not how much the present costs

It’s all the little things.

It’s spending time together

The kindness and the fun

Don’t overspend this Christmas

But have fun everyone.

Stranger in red

Was I the only kid that ever got scared

That in dead of night a man in red, 

With hidden face and long white beard

Would come and crawl around my bed?

I shut my eyes and kept them tight

I partly did so out of fright.

I had been warned I shouldn’t wake

But found it hard to sleep that night.

Bring me presents but Santa please

Drop them quietly then just leave.

Don’t come creeping round my bed

I hardly know you when all’s said.

Christmas Ghost

I am the Christmas Ghost

I haunt the end of year

I am a chill in the air

A creak on the stair

A feeling ‘something’s there’.

 

I’m a frisson of fright

I’m a shiver of fear

Or a face seen in the fire.

I dim your Christmas candles

I’m the spectre at your feast.

But when nights are dark

It’s cold outside

And you’re huddled round the fire

Someone will invite me in

With a call for a ghostly tale.

 

So why do you summon the Christmas Ghost

To blunt your Christmas cheer?

It’s hard for a spirit to know men’s minds

But I guess it’s something like this:

I’m a hint there’s more than you can know

I’m hint of a life beyond

I’m a hint of things as they were before

I’m a hint of bygone times.

I join you up with those long gone

The ones you’ve loved and lost

But most of all I’m a good excuse

For a huddle round the fire.

Christmas Child

A poem for Ben – born on Christmas Day.

You were Christmas’s child

Born not to riches

But to a life of graft

Making, mending and making do.

There were no gifts from the east for you

But craftsmanship guile, ready wit

The gift of friendship

And a fiercely independent spirit.

A time died with you

We only knew through your stories

Of big families, passed down children

Cursory schooling, schoolyard japes.

Of millionaires, big houses, gardeners,

Chauffeuring at fourteen.

Living starlit under country skies,

Courting on bicycles, bowler hatted,

Army scrapes and country pubs.

A time too we shared with you.

Days in your cosy, pokey cottage

Coal fires, pub lunches,

Stories and the things you said.

You in your chair beneath the stairs,

Snuff, boiled sweets and salad teas.

Neighbours in and out to greet you.

Shakey hands you could turn to anything.

Warm greetings and fond partings.

You won’t be there another Christmas,

Won’t be found there in your chair.

Gone the warmth of your fresh greeting.

Gone a source of Christmas cheer.

Her Majesty’s Christmas Headache

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One likes to chill at Christmas

Relax with family and friends.

But the wretched politicians are

Turning that on end!

 

Rip up one’s Christmas message

And start the thing again!

Whatever seasonal message

Can one’s Majesty send?

 

Struggling with the message

One had a dreadful thought

If Theresa loses her confidence vote

It’ll be down to one to choose.

 

Who will one choose

to sort the mess?

I don’t know I confess.

Corbyn, Johnson, Dominic Raab?

The country’s in a mess!

 

https://www.express.co.uk/news/royal/1054513/royal-news-brexit-latest-news-queen-prime-minister-no-confidence-vote

 

For more insights on Her Majesty and life in Royal Windsor ‘Begging Your Pardon – Please Can I Be Laureate?’ Is available as a paperback or kindle on Amazon.

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Christmas Angels

13EB9E09-8041-4BFD-8184-C66171A88180.jpegWe like to collect Christmas angels

They mostly live in our loft.

This time of the year they all come out

It’s time for them all to show off.

 

We don’t collect precious angels

Nothing too prissy or twee.

Our angels have to have attitude

Wear boots or maybe a scarf.

 

They have woolly hats

Or their hair in a plait

Hurl snowballs or skate on ice.

They come from places where we’ve been

From different parts of the world.

 

It gives us a lift when they come out again 

To cheer up our Christmas scene.

So here’s to the Christmas angels

Raise a glass and be of good cheer

The nights are dark and it’s cold outside

But Christmas will soon be here.

Christmas Mix

Come let’s stir the Christmas pudding

Throw stuff in the Christmas mix:

Christmas jumpers, boring uncles

We three Kings and magic tricks.

Hark the herald, here comes Santa

Hang your stocking by the hearth.

Joseph, Mary, reindeers canter

Peace and love and joy on earth.

Christmas markets, deadly drivers

Fix a wreath upon your door.

Children with their happy faces

Frantic parents hit the stores.

Out collecting, tinny music,

Christmas carols everywhere.

Rattled cans, help the poor,

Care at Christmas, not before.

Wrapping paper, tinsel, baubles

Christmas presents deck the floor.

Frightened Shepherds, holly, ivy

More mince pies, can eat no more.

Come thou long expected Santa

Jesus sleeping in the hay.

Bring us presents Christmas Day.

Get the children in their beds.

Here comes Santa on his sled.

Reindeer pull the magic sleigh

Past office parties off their heads.

Shepherds quake upon a hill

Eat and drink until you’re ill.

It’s the season to be merry

Let’s get high on bottled sherry.

Jesus, Mary, come on in

The party’s here, forget the inn.

Much too drafty in the stable

Come on in we’ll set the table.

Sit here round the Christmas tree.

Bethlehem’s an alright story

All those angels, realm of glory.

But it’s same old child, same old story

Must be better on TV.

Let’s forget those silent nights

Let’s get merry, let’s get tight.

Come oh come, Emmanuel,

Wenceslas gathering winter fuel,

Christ has come to earth for us

We’ll invite him if we must.

 

If you enjoyed this please check out my new book Begging Your Pardon – Please Can I  Be Laureate?

 

I went to Windsor Castle

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I went to Windsor Castle 

To show the Queen my book.

I thought I saw the curtains twitch

But maybe I’m mistook.

The flag was flying as we came

But then they whipped it down

I thought I heard a lackey say,

“That bloody man again”.

She doesn’t have to buy the thing

Just maybe take a look

I’m up for being Laureate

It’s why I wrote the book.

I’m often out in Windsor

But seldom see the Queen

It seems that she’s avoiding me

And hides when I am seen.

Begging Your Pardon – Please Can I be Laureate? is available as a paperback or for kindle on Amazon.