A MEETING WITH THE PRINCESS


Just a family get-together in a terrace house in Bradford

High tea with a few stuffy aunts I hadn’t seen for years

Their husbands in tow like lost dogs sniffing round for food

But she came all the same, ushered in politely as a friend

Of a friend or somebody’s cousin twice removed though

Everybody was a bit put out at first except me so I got

Sat down next to her and started to chat but people would

Keep chipping in, especially the young men, definitely upper-class

Gate-crashers who kept scowling at her and she kept snapping

Back at them and I said, “There seems to be a problem to do

With suppressed anger, I feel” and even my own son, somewhat

Unrelaxed but a genuine Old Etonian nonetheless, looked a bit

Embarrassed at the kerfuffle, but he kept standing by me wearing

His tails and perhaps it was this that finally sent the young

Men on their way and I managed to get her out for a breath

Of fresh air in the street and eventually we found our way to

Peel Park. Nobody seemed to notice who she was or perhaps they

Were too polite to say or they thought she was another Diana

Lookalike anyway we had some peace at last and forgetting

Protocol I put my arm round her and said, “You’re just ordinary.

Like everyone, even the Emperor of China, that’s the secret of life.

If there is one” and she started to cry softly and still nobody

Noticed and then the people and the park and even Bradford itself

Melted away in her tears.


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A MEETING WITH THE PRINCESS