‘Twas a bright, autumn morning, but dread expectation.
Of the sombre procession, not yet in formation.
Giant screens in the parks, for the huge crowds to see,
And billions the world over, were glued to TV,

Each Palace adorned, with mass colourful bloom,
A city that smelled, with a unique perfume.
The ninth hour approached, with just audible hum,
A prelude of sound, for the cortege to come.

The coffin on gun carriage, then led the procession,
"God Bless You Diana!" -- cried one intercession.
No bands and no fanfares, on the whole of the route,
Just the slow, steady trudge of the black, Welsh Guard boot.

Half muffled and sad, tolled the Abbey’s lone bell,
An additional spur, for those tear drops to swell.
The cortege was joined, by the five grieving males,
Differently dealing, with last weeks travails.

Then followed the workers, from charities diverse,
Each with forged link, to the foregoing hearse.
The guests in the Abbey, had taken their seats,
Joining mass congregations, in Parks and in streets.

The coffin arrived and the service began,
They say ‘twas unique, in the history of man.
A ‘Performance’ so moving, by ‘Royal Command,’
But updated and moulded, by common demand.

The Sentences sung, by the Westminster Choir,
The Bidding, - the Hymn -- quote -- "the love vow entire."
Verde’s Requiem, - a Reading, and Psalm 23,
Saying: "Death I don’t fear, with the dear Lord beside me.

A poem so apt: -- "If I should die and leave you here awhile,
For my sake - turn again to life and smile."
"Comfort other hearts than thine,"
"Complete those dear unfinished tasks of mine."

The Corinthian letter, was read from St. Paul,
‘I am naught without love, because love’s above all.’
‘A Candle in the Wind,’ Elton sang and he played,
Not to break down, his face said that he prayed.

That flame and that light, that so charted your life,
Extinguished too soon, by imponderable knife.
Uncountable hearts which you touched, soon unfroze,
Goodbye - Queen of Hearts; Goodbye - England’s Rose.

Earl Spencer then rose, for strong, tribute address,
Rebuking intrusion, by harassing press.
"Di’s brand of magic, didn’t need a Royal Title,"
"The sons will ‘sing’ openly," his pledge now made vital.

The applause started slowly, with volume increase,
The St Francis hymn: "Make me a channel of your peace."
‘The Prayers:’ -- giving thanks, and, for all those who mourn,
With deep pangs of grief, that were untimely borne.

The Choristers sang purely: - Howard Winter’s - Derry Air,
The Archbishop led, with the ageless - Lord’s Prayer.
"Guide me -- great redeemer" that moving, Welsh hymn,
Feed me "Bread of Heaven" evermore, the pilgrim.

To the mercy of God, then all made commendation,
May her soul rest in peace, was the firm supplication.
Total one minutes silence, then soft muted bells,
As the cortege departed, through the final farewells.

The hearse made its way, through the North London crowd.
Bombardment of flowers, made colourful shroud.
The people applauded, and waved their goodbyes,
Their dead Queen of Hearts, bringing tears to their eyes.

Diana’s gone home now, her Maker to meet,
To rest on an island, - a family retreat.
Thank you Diana; for all that you’ve done,
For rare inspiration, -- for work just begun.