WI CENTENARY GARDEN PARTY, BUCKINGHAM PALACE

8,000 women, dressed up to the nines

Converging on the Palace, waiting in line

To show passports, be security checked

By the friendliest policemen we’d ever met;

Through the gates, past soldiers on parade,

Into the building we all sashayed,

Onto the terrace, wind whipping our hats,

A stroll in the garden, time to relax;

Admire the roses, listen to the bands,

Inspect the tea tents, decide where to stand,

To get a glimpse, that’s all, I’m afraid,

Of the Duchess of Cornwall as the Anthem played;

We stood behind a Yeoman of the Guard

But with so many women it was really quite hard

So we wandered back to sample the tea,

Joined a queue, Gill and me;

Orderly, good-humoured with a sense of fun,

We chatted, were asked how far we’d come,

Cornwall, Scotland, by coach or train,

How lucky we felt not to have rain;

At last we reached the front of the queue,

Chose sandwiches, scones, cakes – quite a few,

All dainty, delicious, served with a smile,

Found a table to rest for a while;

Decided we ought to go to the loo,

Yes, you’ve guessed it, another long queue,

But then they came round with tubs of ice cream,

We took to the terrace to survey the scene;

To look one more time at the throngs below

Before, like Cinderella, it was time to go,

To leave by the gate where tourists admired

All those glamorous women, their egos on fire;

So glad we were able to take up the chance

To get on our glad rags, preen and prance,

Be part of this wonderful celebration

On a day that exceeded all expectation.

Miriam Ramshaw

June 2015