She stands at the railings in her tartan coat,

Her shopping trolley pulled behind, her shoes

Scuffed with age and yet she clings

To the iron rails, looking at the window lit

Ready for a broadcast to the nation.

She wonders what it would be like to have

A life played out so publicly, so different

To her own life, lonely now her husband’s gone.

Now all she does is trundle past the palace to

A local Tesco’s where she buys her bread and eggs

And sometimes bags of sugared donuts, a treat

That surely she deserves. She wonders if

The Queen will eat some donuts too,

When she’s feeling sad. She wonders if she is alone

Or if her children gather round. She wonders if

The Queen will need a friend. She needs a friend

And she’d like to meet the Queen, have some tea,

Pat her hand and tell her it’ll all be fine,

Just hold on and give it time.