Coronation for a KingA Poem by Andrew JohnFreeverse(Charles Philip Arthur George - b. 14 November 1948) I had a cousin called Charles, said Aunty Olive. Nice young man. That's him on our TV. That's not cousin: it's King, said Aunty Lucy. It's King Charles. Now watch it all on this TV. It's a TV, Olive, a TV. It's nineteen fifty-three, isn't it? asked Aunty Olive. I remember Victoria. There she is. She's dead, said Aunty Lucy. And you meant Elizabeth. She's gone, too. Now look at those oils. They're from the Mount of Olives. Very posh, said Aunty Elsie. Olives. Nothing to do with Aunty Olive though - she's here, right here. Ha-ha! Do be quiet, said Aunty Olive. We're all different olives. Ha-ha! And this boy is Prince Charles. Prince Charles. Prince Harry, Olive, Aunty Elsie corrected. Not Charles. Harry's the King's second son. That red-headed one. Now, said Aunty Lucy, you must have heard of this chrism oil on this TV? Oils of sesame, rose, jasmine, cinnamon. Oh, yes, said Aunty Elsie. I've heard of them. Neroli, too, and that benzoin, amber and orange blossom. Oh, you do show off, our Elsie, said Aunty Olive. We're not that Mr Shakespeare's three witches, you know! But look who's here, Aunty Olive added: that Prince What's His Name chap, that Princess royal. Yes, said Aunty Elsie: Duke of Gloucester, Viscount Linley, Prince George - that nice boy - and Princess Charlotte, it never stops. And nor will this TV show, said Aunty Olive. So let's watch this King George, er, Frederick, er . . . Charles! Aunty Lucy bellowed. Charles! Charles! Charles! Charles! Charles! (6 May 2003) (You may wish to see also "Trooping the Colour" of June 2022 and "Obsequies for a Queen" of September 2022)
© 2023 Andrew JohnReviews
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