Evening will come, however determined the late afternoon,
Limes and oaks in their last green flush, pearled in September mist.
I have conjured a lily to light these hours, a token of thanks,
Zones and auras of soft glare framing the brilliant globes.
A promise made and kept for life – that was your gift –
Because of which, here is a gift in return, glovewort to some,
Each shining bonnet guarded by stern lance-like leaves.
The country loaded its whole self into your slender hands,
Hands that can rest, now, relieved of a century’s weight.
Evening has come. Rain on the black lochs and dark Munros.
Lily of the Valley, a namesake almost, a favourite flower
Interlaced with your famous bouquets, the restrained
Zeal and forceful grace of its lanterns, each inflorescence
A silent bell disguising a singular voice. A blurred new day
Breaks uncrowned on remote peaks and public parks, and
Everything turns on these luminous petals and deep roots,
This lily that thrives between spire and tree, whose brightness
Holds and glows beyond the life and border of its bloom.
by Simon Armitage, Poet Laureate. Note the first letter of each line together spells ELIZABETH.
Together with the rest of the nation, we’ve been reflective this past week. We too went to lay some flowers in the Floral Garden in Green Park – and left a card.
We were there very early on Sunday morning …
… by the end of the week, a carpet of flowers covered the green lawns.
If each flower laid at Green Park is an expression of love, then the carpet of floral tributes laid in numerous royal palaces and British Embassies around the world is an overwhelming expression of affection and appreciation of her.
(If anyone should wonder, we were asked to remove all plastic coverings so the flowers could be composted by Royal Parks after the funeral.)
After stopping to read the messages left by children, families, many individuals, we meandered our way amongst barriers in Green Park to Buckingham Palace. There, the new monarch’s Standard flew. We have a new King.
It was still early but there were already hundreds of people milling around. We didn’t linger, but left to attend a Thanksgiving Service at St. Andrews Church.
At the end of the service we sang ‘God Save the King’. It really felt that everyone wanted to show support to the new monarch.
The rest of the day and days following, were spent watching the day’s events on TV. Catching sight of the coffin as it left Balmoral brought it home. The news we had heard over the last three days had become reality.
And everywhere – there were reminders …
We have lost an exceptional human being. She was our Queen of dogs too.
May’s comment: We were looking for a way to understand the waves of emotions that kept coming. Even though we knew the day would come, because The Queen was after all 96, the sudden news was difficult to comprehend.
It was an end of an era – and the thought weighed heavy in our hearts. The Queen’s death took away the stability and constant, and a reassuring presence of leadership that we had almost believed could never end. She was exceptional. She embodied goodness.
We will miss her smile, her gracious presence, her service. She was our Queen. She was ‘The Queen’ to others far and wide.
And so for this past week, we sat glued to the TV watching every documentary about the queen and we sought ways to pay our respect, to say thank you, to remember an exceptional woman who dedicated her life to service and to say goodbye. In so many ways she was more than just a Queen.
And she was a global icon. The world remembers.
