The Day Colour Turned Pale
written by: Sue McBean
After days of grey,
Google Doodle turned black,
to honour the passing.
No longer wakening her,
the recessional piper
lamented ‘Dearie, sleep,’
piercing the Abbey’s cold sadness.
The glorious Autumn pageant,
of reds and yellows,
beat of feet and drum
for miles,
until we were numb.
Absurd Corgis watching.
Men in red tabards, recalling
collapsing cards in Alice’s Adventures.
This Queen of Hearts
vanished, lowered on marble,
while the evanescing piper,
measured each step,
toe first like a dancer,
through the Chapel’s quire aisle.
Lit as in a dream.
The slow Air ebbed.
Tribute to the servant
who kept our fires alight.
Salute the Royal Fendersmith.
Fading from view,
he turned,
as she went to dwell in halls
where the knight with bent knee
loves her, still the same.
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