Dressed to Empress

Laughing, blue-eyed girl

Reconciled to fate

Ermine laced with pearl

Elizabeth The Great

Tudor Suitor

Royal Cradle | Photo

Old King Henry had six wives
Whose days were full of dread
For most of them led tragic lives
Then often wound up dead.
Catherine of Aragon
To whom he first proposed
Could not produce a princely son
So he said Adios!
Then Anne Boleyn, closer to home
Demanded that they wed
So Henry cut off ties with Rome
And then cut off her head.
Poor Jane Seymour was the one
Who finally played her part
When she, at last, produced a son
But died, which broke his heart.
Anne of Cleves, the next one booked
Was regal, young and wealthy
The problem was she didn’t look
Quite like her royal selfie.
Catherine Howard, it was said
No man had ever dated
But rumours spread after they’d wed
So was decapitated.
Catherine Parr, a lively sort
Who wielded her own power
Helped organise his kids and court
Once she’d escaped The Tower.

All Henry wanted was a son
A prince whom he could teach
To rule his people when he’d gone
But this was out of reach.
The irony which overwhelms
This patriarchal scene?
He gave to England and its realms
Perhaps their greatest queen
Because Young Bess, put to the test
Excelled in her employ
And showed the world it takes a girl
To do it like a boy.

Heir Heads

British Royal Family Tree - Guide to Queen Elizabeth II Windsor Family Tree

The last of the dishes put away and with both dogs farting up a storm after polishing off the unwanted sprouts, everyone gathered in front of the TV for Her Majesty’s Christmas message to the nation. At 95, The Queen appeared staid and resolute, a safe pair of hands to see us through the next 12 months.

She’s actually doing just fine, it’s the rest of the family that’s the problem.

Her Madge described the last few years as “quite bumpy” but that’s just how Philip drives after he’s had a few. Not only does he ram cars off the road, Philip’s a ticking time bomb who will say anything to anyone, especially if they’re foreign. Quite rich considering his father was Prince Andrew of Greece & Denmark, his mother was Princess Alice of Battenberg, Granny was a Russian and he was born in Greece but educated in France, Germany and England. Between them, they cover more countries than EasyJet.

Harry put the boot into his brother, the future king, admitting they hate each other’s guts, so good luck with the British media when they follow up on that juicy tidbit. Wills then hit back saying he’s “worried Harry might be bonkers,” which Harry then proved by announcing he’s making a documentary on mental health with Oprah. Then rumours that Kate and Meghan can no longer stand living in the same kingdom became evident when the Sussexes vacated Kensington Palace for an enchanted cottage guarded by poisonous frogs in the grounds of Westeros Castle. Then after spending millions to make it look exactly the same, the Sussexes let it go and fled to the icy Kingdom of Canadia. Bored after two days by the solitude and sheer beauty of their surroundings, and running low on Manuka Elbow Moisturiser, the pair then fled to California to… erm… escape the royals (which they’d already done), Britain (which they’d also already done) and the media (whom they’d asked to film their honeymoon).

It’s gonna be epic.

To cross over to the Dark Side completely, however, requires an examination of Princess Anne. And yes, she’s hard working but so are fire ants. For her Duke of Edinburgh Award, it’s rumoured a young Anne commissioned a wind-up Prince Philip doll capable of killing lesser royals. Often mistaken for an Amish horse hand by members of the Household Cavalry, an awkward Anne clung on to the fact that she remained the only princess in a stable of princes.

And then in walked Diana.

[the sound of a toy chest opening followed by some sort of wind-up mechanism]

Crossing her off their list, father and daughter then turned their sights on the next interloper. Rumour has it that during her initial stay at Kensington Palace, Prince Philip presented Kate Middleton with a Diana doll sans tête. While examining it thoughtfully, if not warily, their guest made a mental note of her nearest exit.

“She was pretty like you,” Princess Anne remarked. “She’s not pretty now, though… I’m the pretty princess now.”

“Isn’t she missing something?” Kate asked, pointedly.

“My bad,” Anne apologised, crushing her can of Pilsner and flicking it at her. “There’s the car.”