during the funeral service
Death is a leveller. Margaret I can know you
as one of the land you led. Imperious woman,
what should it be someone so far below you,
a commoner, and your high self, have in common?
Yes, you were one of us; but you were noble,
chosen, elect, a pure force, to demand
allegiance, and be followed blind, until
you chose the wrong war, and ran out of command.
A tragic fall. But no tragedy this,
to give the world a backbone for a time.
And that a woman did so, nothing amiss.
May there be more. To close my paltry rhyme –
what made you close? To love until you die
T.S.Eliot’s Little Gidding, as do I.