Our Sovereign (The Queen's Jubilee) Poem by Owain Glyn

Sixty years upon the throne
Sword held high to raise a Knight
Never needed payday loan
Or understood a pauper's plight.

Privileged from birth to grave
Without a care to cloud the sky
The masses crave a monarch's wave
With eager voice they all will cry;

God save the King, God save the Queen
God save the Prince of Wales
We don't mind if they're Germans
Even Greeks if all else fails.

We were born as subjects
To bend low and know our place
We should be bloody grateful
Just to gaze upon that face.

That they should spend our hard earned cash
Is but their royal right
Lackeys wake them up each day
And tuck them in at night.

They need their gold-lined palaces
Their castles give them joy
They can hide their indiscretions
And keep out the hoi-polloi.

But of course they bring in tourists
With their dollars and their yen
Who never catch a glimpse of them
So back they come again.

We love our Royal family
They make us feel secure
We don't mind if they cost us
Fifty million every year!

So sixty years of service
Is a feat to celebrate
We'll get an extra day off work
It's what makes Britain great! ! ! !
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