When you show Britannia tears

She will comfort you, cradle your soul

and make everything alright, show her

the face of heroism, of remaining loyal

to her throughout life, of being faithful

in a world in which she suspects she has done

many wrongs, then her tears are for you

to respect and kiss away gently

as they run down the side of her cheeks.

Britannia is old now, my Queen still fights

on, I see the rage, I feel its heart as she lays down,

the bed affording her tired body, a resting place,

the passing of the greatest warrior is close by

and a humble squire is granted audience

one final time, to show the Queen, faithful

Britannia, that her trust and guiding hand

in this squire’s upbringing

was not in vain.

In silence, briefly, she mistook me for a prince.

How does a lowly squire, no knight, no dragon vanquished

look Britannia in the eyes  and justify

his existence, when so many should be thankful

of her life, it could only be

as the tear ran down her cheek,

was to tell this regretful but proud monarch,

the heart of the squire’s life,

that she was much loved,

that she is beautiful

and to smile but be true,

the hurt and pain

can be hidden for now,

Time for the Queen to be shown

the respect she deserves.

 

For Ella

Ian D. Hall 2017