The Royal Cold



Sing a song of sneezing

The Queen has got a cold

Four and twenty tissues

For a royal cold!

Could be even worse news

Phillip has it too.

Two red royal noses

Whatever will we do?

Phillip’s in his counting house,

Counting out his money;

The queen is taking remedies;

Lemon hot with honey.

The maid is in the garden

Hanging out the clothes,

When down comes the Queen’s cold

And reddens up her nose.

They send for Phillip’s doctor,

To get them well again;

He treats them right royally

And sets them right again.

So all’s well in the country

There’s not much in the news

Just a sniffy royal nose

Bunged up in the mews.


Queen Elizabeth my neighbour


Liz from up the hill

Have you met my neighbour
Liz from up the hill?
She likes to walk her corgis
Husband’s name is Phil.

Curtsy when you meet her;
Seems that is the drill.
She may not have her crown with her
But ask her and she will.

The Castle’s really handy
For all the Windsor shops.
If ever she runs out of stuff
Across the road she pops.

She likes to wear a headscarf
It acts as a disguise
In case the folk of Windsor
Disturb her while she buys.

Her favourite shop, just near her
Is Windsor’s new T. Max
You’ll often find her in there
Going through the racks.

She never carries money
Or so I’ve heard them say
I guess they have to send a bill
For someone else to pay.

If ever you bump into her
She’ll ask you what you do
They’re short her conversations
And very quickly through.

It’s not that she’s unfriendly
She’ll always give a wave
She’s up for doing walkabouts
But privacy she craves.

You’re always very welcome
If ever you’re in town
You’ll have to pay and join a queue
But then she’ll show you round.

You’re free to poke around the place
Gawp at what they own
The only thing you won’t see is
The Queen upon her throne.

Phillip can get grumpy
And doesn’t find it funny;
Visitors bursting in on him
But he knows they need the money.

The castle’s nice and roomy
But that means lots of bills
The other royals pitch in to help
And take turns on the tills.

Sometimes it can get too much
And out the back Liz slips
The Long Walk down to Ascot
Is Liz’s favourite trip.

She really loves her horses
And used to love to ride
The family’s somewhat horsey
That can not be denied.

She’s got too old for riding
She’s ninety so I’m told
Would love to saddle up again
But ninety is too old.

She won’t think of retiring
Though Charles thinks that she should.
They badly need her salary
Or else perhaps she would.

They’re quiet considerate neighbours
You seldom hear them row
There’s lots more I could say of them
But that’s your lot for now.

Your Majesty



Your Majesty I’m wondering
If you got my note?
I volunteered for Laureate
But haven’t heard back yet.

I know you’re really busy
With weddings and such stuff
But spare a thought for Poets
Our life can be quite rough.

I’m practicing my poems
And some are really good
I’d like to write a few for you
So get back if you could.

Perhaps you didn’t see my note
It’s very hard to know
So just in case, I thought it best
To have another go.