“Not my king”
Some people sing
Real ones
Not the rent a crowd
It’s dull and wet
In London Town
Stop it
All that’s going down
250 million quid
Frittered a way
In a few hours
Crowns regalia choirs
And marching
In a bid to show us all
He’s the King
And she’s his lady
With the country
About to fall
A Golden coach
Pure Synergism
Marching soldiers
Airman too
Beating drums
And choral singing
Rent a crowd
Some who do
Protest
He is not our king
We can’t feel his regency
And she is now the Queen and Country
Maybe she is but not for me.
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.