The pomp and parade vibrates old London town itself
The walls swell to the beat of its heat in tune,
With The bells of St Clements and St Martins
Ringing for their farthings.
Something is a brew something new
Blow me down with a feather
The paparazzi on the pavement are stuck with glue,
When oh when is that royal baby due,
The Queen is tapping her foot
William plays polo for no news but
He waits and waits...he won’t be late
To be at the side of his lovely Kate.
London bells will surely peal the news today maybe
Their Loving grandma Dianne in heaven I guess
Will send a hugging kiss to heavenly bless.
this wil be going on.no matter. our pleasure when u read mine n yours when i read yours n we say together beautiful write grand write divine write and within we may write something which will b outstanding. keep share we will win a grt life regards always
Nice one Ken, Have a read of my sonnet On the birth of a royal baby.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, like it. I think the press will give them a bit more space than they have done in the passed.