Oh how the jets arrive
The liners cross the sea
The air is filled with smoke
From cars and trains and folk
All wending to old London town, To see a lady who
does really belong to any Mr and you
Dollars, francs, lire, All pile in to all these many days
just to see the pagentry of a million ways
A day of days a happy day a day just once a year
just one day. That's all it is
Yet marks us very proud
As all these folk shout of and say
A happy birthday ma'am
on your offical birthday
Oh what a crowd she brings
So many you reign. Elizabeth on your throne
May you remain
And as we all salute you
A happy birthday. Ma'am

by Florence Brice

Other poems of FLORENCE BRICE (2)

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