His work exuded sophistication;
That clever poet.
There’d be endless layers of complication.
Name a technique and he could show it;
He displayed such knowledge; erudition.
The most perfect rhymes he’d always retrieve.
The power of his intellect there on display.
And, at choosing his words, he was quite a magician,
His extensive vocabulary hard to believe.
It was just such a pity he’d nothing to say!
Poor Prince Harry, it’s no joke
Women plan weddings, ignore us blokes.
They went and picked cup final day
Hard on a chap, what can I say?
Always a risk to marry in May
But early wedding should be ok.
It’ll be over conveniently
You can catch the match it’s on TV.
You could have gone, had real good seats
Presented the trophy, met the teams
But Meghan’s from the USA
Won’t understand it’s a special day.
Andrew Green's Poems 