THE ROYAL WEDDING

 (written on the day after)

By Peter Woodgate 

Strange it is that we all like a puppet show

The marionettes, on stage, all synchronized

The puppeteers are expert at ensuring

That those to be controlled were idolized

Even Megan, the commoner, without blue blood

Was given a transfusion, epithet

The queen can give out titles, should she choose,

A shame then She and I have never met

But we, as lesser mortals, should be grateful

And look up to those, who in the past,

Have accumulated wealth, most often through foul deeds

And changed the rules to make sure it would last

I noticed all the crowd waved Union Jacks

It should have been Euro flags on view

The royals are so very multi-national

Less British than the likes of me and you

But then, I guess, most people need to worship

And will ignore the means that make the end

We wear our special spectacles, rose-tinted,

And masking misdemeanours, we pretend

For throughout our history, Monarchs of this land

Have murdered to ensure they would remain

And God was used to justify their actions

As wealth and land, and property they’d gain

Of course, today, the Royals are just figureheads,

Icons, that our needs will focus on

The show of Punch and Judy, more resembling of mankind,

Will simply be reviewed as children’s fun

So, Megan and our Harry, just mortals after all

And I, for one, have never seen their wings,

As humans, I would wish them, happiness and peace

But feel they will be strangled by their strings 

 

Copyright Peter Woodgate