It has happened, the Queen is dead.

 

The new Prime Minister has not even unpacked at her new residence.

She also did not even fake a curtsy nor a bow when greeting the Queen.

Just Yesterday, and Today she is gone, at 96 years of age.

What are we all to do?

Even those of us who are not British?

Being turned back from Canada as a former dual citizen.

I did not have the right luggage.

Itinerary is what they asked.

I had not prepared my trip but wanted to see the old French quarter.

It will never be the same.

I was born in route between Paris and Perris.

My birth certificate says California.

My old passport used to say French Canada.

Although I attempted to be a good French citizen.

Native Americans are rarely really encouraged.

Here we are and with my mother gone ahead.

She would not have believed the fuss they put out.

And then dumped the jovial Boris for the hawkish Truss.

The Post has been placed on Buckingham Palaces Gate.

She has not even been in residence for at least three years.

A lot has happened since they vacated Buckingham.

They moved to Windsor her and Philip.

He left her last year and was buried privately.

The Pandemic was so limiting to everyone.

Balmoral was her second home, 

And it was also her last resting place.

Her Christmas time with her children.

Time free from the public.

And no interference from those German

Wanna bees.

Her life was altered when she was still a child.

Her parents were like third or fourth in line.

They were poor church mice.

They had an apartment inside a palace.

She spent her childhood 

Stealing downstairs to see if there was anything

Left over from supper.

Children did not eat the same as adults.

Her light tea and supper were not sufficient.

She wanted at least a piece of meat.

Scamper and hide.

There they left all that beef out.

All she wanted was a piece of cheese.

Or a smack

Sister found it sneaking.

Shh, take some beef on a fork

And a lovely slice of cheese

Smuggle up the back stairs.

Giggles and quiet

Sounds on the back stairs 

Upper window seat.

There they are

So says the King

Your parents sent out the guards

But I knew you two

Would be taking advantage of my pantry.

Your pantry, it will be mine one day.

Her uncle chuckled.

Blessed girl, she was probably right.

His days were numbered and the others missing.

Her silence was masking

What was she thinking

A summer job as a curator

Was so nerve wracking.

Her children were so perfect.

And yet there was going to be trouble.

Without trouble she had no reason to keep her job.

Her job she kept for seventy years.

And now it is the aged son, bent over 

Who is expected to take over.

What happened to the young Charles

Good looking enough to challenge 

The Movie stars of the Golden era

And yet, there was never a good time

For her to leave and him to take over.

Here he is now Seventy years old himself.

With a second wife, Camilla.

And two spoiled boys.

Once nice enough 

But both married prostitutes.

Whose only job is to get noticed.

How much more time do they need

They have reproduced admirably

Children who are of half royal blood.

But they themselves will nver be taken seriously

Especially if they are as rumored

Bastards born out of wedlock

King Charles at last

What the country wanted

From the first

Pickles and pears

The worst scandal

Abdicating for an American divorcee

Providing only a child queen

Who was never respected 

By the population

They only showed up 

To see the charming boy

In her arms

It is how it works

The one who loves you the most

Is also not appreciated

Loved and admired by those around the world

Devoted to her duties

Her great grandchildren will never know her

Her challenges as ambulance driver

Eating bread and butter sandwiches

Because no one would make her a lunch

In her war time work

While the King said nothing

Knowing she would have her way

One day as Queen

Her husband should have King himself

But demurred to her wisdom 

To keep her people to her kingdom

She has lost a number of nations 

In her empire due to independence

But her own worth was her courage

In the face of all

And kept the Presidents, Prime Ministers, and others

From blowing each other up

And forcing her nations navy 

To be in the fore front of technology.

The news has no idea what they are adoring

They don't even know what to call the new guy

God rest her soul and bless this kid with a crown and a title.

The officials are also unaware of what 

They are to do next

A state funeral is expected.

At Westminster Abbey

Long live the King

And whisk those girls into the basement where they belong.

Oh by the way

Will Charles and Camille

Change thier name?

After all, 

Philip bitterly complaned

That it was not his name 

Technically, they are the last

Romanovs

His father the nearest to the Tsar

And through Victoria

The Tsarina

And his own mother

Just saying with all that is going on

In the world,

We forget were we got this particular 

Set of Monarchs.

They are more German than Roman

More Russian than Celtic

As it is Kate 

Is already using the title

And Meghan wanted the tiara

Poor little girls

Who just dont want to grow up

Super rich might bring down

The monarchy itself

Before they are even illegible

Long live him no matter what he is called.