The royals were having a joke
Laughing almost fit to near burst
Zara said “Let’s all have a bet
To see which of us can look worst? ”
“We can all go to Ascot today
In the very worst clothes we can find
We’ll sure be a motley array
I’m sure that granny won’t mind”
Then Eugenie, Zara and Bea
Found an woodwormed ancient old trunk
Filled up with a nice vast array
Of all kinds of clothes and weird junk
They found some old mini skirts
And cardboard they made into hats
A couple of silk fifties shirts
And coats that looked like door-mats
Bea said “Oh what a good laugh
We're a strange collection of folk!
All three of us look pretty naff
I do hope the press get the joke”
copyright Victoria George
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem