The State of the Opening of Parliament

She’s in the Daimler, not the gold carriage of state,
While the million-pound hat is in separate freight,
Pulling in through the Westminster palace gate.
It’s Black Rod’s big day out.

Where they always slam the door in her face
Before she bangs it thrice with her staff (not her mace)
To summon the Commons to the other place
To hear what this term’s all about.

These days, the crown’s heavy on the royal head
So, it’s relegated to a cushion instead
While the Queen’s speech sets out the year ahead
And new laws for those hereabout.

My Lords, she says, and you commoner lot,
My government would like to buy me a yacht,
But while the pandemic remains a blot
They’d best leave that bit out.

So, my government (led by that chap with the hair)
Will promise that the recovery’s fair,
While remaining silent on the social care
They reckon you can do without.

And my government’s Procurement Bill
Will make their contracts easier still
For the likes of Hancock’s mates to fulfil
When they’re in need of a handout.

My government will not require
Employers to desist from fire and rehire.
It’s enough to make a prince perspire,
The stuff that they’ve left out.

The state of the opening of Parliament
Where the Queen sets out Spaffer’s intent
In the gaps between what’s said and what’s meant.
It’s Black Rod’s big day out.

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