Easter Sunday
Hear the guards
Marching down to where
St James Palace
From Wellington Barracks
In Winter Cloaks
The air
cold
Their faces ruddy
Spring is on its way
But Winters breath
You can feel it
On this Easter Day
Grey cloaks and black trousers
White gloves and black boots
Each carrying an instrument
It feels cold at one’s roots
Marching all in unison
This is what they do
the Welsh Guards
In their livery
Make a splendid view.
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.