The immaculate hearse

Noses its way forward

To meet the crowds

 

Within its protection

A coffin fashioned of English oak

Draped with the Royal Standard,

The noonday sun and sadness

 

This would be the final journey

One of committal; for our Queen

Deeply loved, honoured and respected

 

The route lined with loyal subjects

Their faces lined with tears

Heads bowed low; hearts full

 

Hidden from view:

The twinkling blue eyes

The smile that touched hearts

The hands, so often held out

In friendship, peace

Or reconciliation

 

Travelling now, with symbols of monarchy

The crown, orb and sceptre

Resting on cushions of purple

 

A wreath of garden flowers

In pinks, gold and deep burgundy

Roses, sedum and scabious

Sprigs of myrtle for love

And rosemary for remembrance

Upon a frame of oak branches

From the tree that speaks of constancy

Strength and duty