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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The tributes keep pouring in and my heart is singing a wonderful hymn The lines are getting longer and the passions are getting stronger They stormed the streets in a hundred thousand throng; people of all color and creed, husbands and wives holding hands and little children marching along with flowers tied up in bundle to express their love for the diseased queen. The flower memorial is swelling on every corner and the barricades are everywhere giving a touch to the social order. They come from Europe, the Middle East, Australia and North America. They come from Latin America and the Caribbean; they come from Asia and Africa with gold and silver to show their respect to the queen. The airports are crowed and the hotels are full, all roads lead to London, by air, by sea on land and on foot. They come from France, Germany Italy and Spain, they are all there. The crowd is getting bigger and the passion is growing deeper and my heart is singing a silent tune The procession began at balmoral estate when the Landrover suddenly broke through the gate carrying the body of the diseased queen and her only daughter accompanying her on the long journey from Scotland to Edinburgh and Buckingham palace in London, cruising through villages and town, farming communities and breakaway cities and the anxious crowd gather in the street showing their love for the queen. The Face of love, faces of pain, somber face, faces that have nothing to gain watch the procession as it journeyed through the winding street to its final destination. I could hear the whispers and the cries and now and again she pulled out a handkerchief to dry up the falling tears. A sea of flowers converged in the square with a powerful message from the heart. I remember the queen from the start I can see her dainty smile and I imagine sitting with her for a while having a cup of tea. Just yesterday she was with me talking about her family and I am sitting here bearing the weight of her coffin. The dignitaries are coming to town, and they will meet at West Minister to pay homage to the queen. Everyone will meet at west minister Abby to pay the final respect to the queen and so the legacy of the daffodil lives on and the story of cactus hang on the window is showing its sorrow, And the lotus is dancing in the stream.
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