On Sunday morning, my husband and I decided to take our 18 month old son for a walk around the block as a means of getting out of our stuffy home.
A mere 15 minutes into our walk, the skies opened and it began to rain.
We raced home, giggling and explaining to little Dorian what the water pouring down over his head was. Despite the weather, we were blissfully happy, just us three.
And suddenly, an image of Queen Elizabeth sat alone at her dear husband Prince Philip’s funeral, came into my head. I thought about how we’d often analyzed weather patterns in literature during my days as an academic, calling it pathetic fallacy when rain would fall down after the loss of a beloved character. I thought to myself that, if Queen Elizabeth were to see this rain, she would likely feel that it matched her grieving mood exactly and would view it in a far less generous, comical light than myself and my family.
The words of this poem sprang into my head at that moment as I envisioned what it would be like, after 73 long years, to say goodbye to my life’s love. It would be excruciating, heart-wrenching, unthinkable, and I truly felt sadness and pity for Her Majesty in that moment. I rushed home to pen this poem which I knew was for the lovers Elizabeth and Philip.
May we all have a love story that lasts as long as theirs in our lives, however it ends.
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