We’re in a royal pickle
It seems a bit of a do
The bastions of the cosseted
Have to reappraise their view
Among the many scrapings
Who bowed and vowed their lives
To a bunch of well-off chanciest
Where entitlement survives
Step and fetch it straightaway
Below the radar, stay unseen
Brushing, buffing shiny things
Amid palatial ways and means
N.B.
Whilst I have little sympathy for the plight of Mr Mountbatten, I do not subscribe to paparazzi photography shaming.
