All Alone

A Poignant Picture
(An Elfje)

Seated
all alone
in the chapel.
Her beloved consort's funeral.
Majesty.
-----------------------------------

This is my last contribution to the Poetry Group’s Platinum Jubilee Collection. It recalls the iconic image of the Queen at the Duke of Edinburgh’s low-key funeral, held under COVID restriction at St George’s Chapel, Windsor on 3rd June 2021.

When you read this I will be away at the Tandem Club National Rally, which is going to be rather a challenge with my arm in plaster! The boss is also taking a solo bike in case I can’t cope with cycling every day, even on the back of a tandem. All being well I’ll be back next week.

Advertisement

All Seasons

Continuing to share my contributions to the poetry group’s Platinum Jubilee Collection, this one is a Haiku sequence:

A Queen for All Seasons

Queen Elizabeth,
so young for such commitment.
The Spring of her life.

Summer days roll by.
Her bright smile illuminates
her life of duty.

An eventful life,
constant in adversity.
The trials of Autumn.

With longevity,
still radiant and smiling.
Winter unfolding.

Second of her name,
equal in strength and dignity.
Queen Elizabeth.

Plaster and Platinum

Well I didn’t get my plaster changed. I have an ‘unstable fracture’ and there was concern that it may have moved, requiring more manipulation or even surgery. The fracture fortunately hasn’t moved so no need for that at present. They decided not to disturb it and just reinforced the existing cast. I go back on Wednesday and if all still well hopefully I will get the plaster changed for a lighter-weight one then.

Meanwhile, as promised, here is the first of my own contributions to my poetry group’s Platinum Anthology:

—————————————————————————————————————–

I'm Sorry Your Majesty

"Why don't they put him in the dustbin?"
was perhaps not the most patriotic thing
to say on the death of the king.

Not that I remember it of course,
but that is what I've been told I said
on being a trifle miffed about the absence
of my favourite programmes
on the radio and all the sombre music
they were replaced with.

In my defence
I was only three at the time.
What did I know of death and mourning?

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Site content copyright of Elizabeth Leaper (Libby).

Supporting the Printed Word

Read the Printed Word!