Our view of the carriage from Windsor’s Long Walk.
And now they’ll come; the sycophants
In silly hats and draped with flags
Sleeping out for several nights
To save their place on Windsor streets.
They take it all a bit too far
We’re half amused yet half appalled
To view the strange exotic hoards
That gather now round Windsor’s walls.
We’re local, we’ll go. We’ll line the streets
To catch the buzz, the grand parade,
The marching bands, the passing waves
But we won’t go wild like such as these.
It’s history, tradition it’s what we do
It’s part of what makes us who we are.
But keep it all in sane proportion.
You’re overboard, you go too far.
We know it’s eccentric, slightly wrong
But like it enough to carry on.
The royals are trapped as much as us
We’ll party on but please, no fuss.
Are you coming to Windsor?
Here’s all you need to know
Where to see the Royal Bride
Or catch Chris Evans show.
There’s screens all down the Long Walk
Refreshment areas too.
The Irish Guards on Castle Hill
And lots of extra loos.
There’s park and ride
Or park and float
There’s extra trains
or come by boat.
Lots of things to see.
Or parking at the racecourse
And see it on a screen.
The Bride arrives at high noon
Carriages at one.
Process around the royal route
All be done by two.
You’ll have heard about the wedding
For us there’s no getting away
For weeks the bunting’s been flying
The flags are flapping away.
There’s commonwealth, there’s horses
The usual Windsor displays.
But the real big one to pull them all in
Will be the wedding day.
Some hiring out their houses
Some have people to stay
It’ll be a historic occasion
Whatever else you say.
We know about road closures
And where to see the bride
Where they’ll put the big screens
The route to stand beside.
The whole things on our door step.
We’ll kind of get sucked in.
I’m supposed to write a poem for it
So guess I better begin.
Still no word from the Castle about my offer to be the new Poet Laureate. I didn’t mind too much about being left off the guest list but I think they should take me up on my offer of a poem. As I said to Her Majesty, in an earlier letter, the proper poets have all turned it down but I could turn something out at the drop of a hat and it wouldn’t be half as stuffy. I’m local too. They should give me a try.
There’s going to be a wedding
Just up the road from us
I could have written poems
They only had to ask.
They should know
I’m up for Laureating.
I offer often enough.
I’m their local poet
But seem to get forgot!
You can fuss around
Worry about the dress
But there ought to be a poem
I’m really quite distressed.
You can leave me
Off the guest list
I know it’ll be a squeeze
But don’t forget the poem
Call me quite soon please!
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.
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.