The Boy Who Didn't Bow

As I write these words, it is just over one hour until the funeral service begins of our beloved Queen Elizabeth II; I love order, unity and the forces for good which Her Majesty exemplified in her person more than anyone I have ever known, even from a distance. I really hope that once we have honoured the Queen this morning, we are able to bat away the kind of deleterious forces which will attempt to fill the vacuum her grace and truth leave behind before it is slammed shut against them, hopefully, by the new monarch Charles III. Here, I observe those passing HM The Queen: Lying-In-State...

The mourners waited on the stairs

Their turn to walk on through

Westminster Hall, its environs

And atmosphere thereto;

Men and women, old and young,

In wheelchairs, with sticks

Children staring open-eyed

At such a heady mix.

The loyal subjects of Our Queen

Approached the coffin bier,

Catafalque now lifting high

Her Majesty next tier

Gentlemen at Arms did stand

By six around its base,

Yeomen of the Guard at fours,

Same candles, police in place.

Paying last respects of theirs

To monarch true and kind,

Many bowed their heads, her

Subjects grieving soul and mind

That such a steady influence,

A leader whose strong faith

Protected all the populace

From darkness and its wraith,

Was gone unto another plain now,

Leaving shadows long

Complete their crawl across our kingdom

Once so great and strong.

Perhaps the boy who didn’t bow,

Who kept his arms crossed tight,

Who looked askance at others

As they tried to see the light

Was simply way ahead all else

Divining our demise

This island’s heritage defrocked

Before our very eyes;

And yet he was exception,

Just one I ever saw

Of thousands who now file on past

Elizabeth’s last door

Making sign the cross, in prayers

Sent up to He above

That Lilibet be safe and well

For harbouring such love

Towards her people, we who must

March on into new now,

Shining our Queen’s light upon 

The boy who wouldn’t bow.