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Rosa Thomas

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Osborne House

Victoria, Queen of England
and all her dominions,
Empress of India,
died in this bed.

She has looked her last
on the white sails
of yachts on the Solent,
stately trees and tended lawns,
rose bushes, parterres
and the unmarked faces of grandchildren.

If she strains her ears
can she hear their voices?
No, they have been hushed,
“Grandmama is resting.”

Struggling for words,
does she want to say
“Don’t spoil the children’s holiday.
Don’t shut out the light,
don’t stop their games,
don’t dress them in stiff black garments
and keep them still on chairs.”

Did she say these things?
Or did she think them?
It would have made no difference.
Protocol must be appeased,
for them, and other Victorian children;
solemn faces, under black bonnets.
in mourning for grandmama.

Pull down the blinds.
The old queen is dead.

 

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