Heverybadie tarry from
sundown till dawn,
fi see de weddin of Diana's
fuss bawn,
De peple dem camp hout from Piccadily Square
to Buckingham Palace,
Iz ongly de Pope culd a draw wan crowd so big wid fi im chalice,
De Bride waz beautiful an filled wid flair,
cyan yu believe de outa horder peple a chat bout
she haff pieces in ar hair?
De Groom waited patiently far hiz damsel fair,
while de fascinating women had hole eep a
decaracion pon dem head,
Each wishin a Westminister Abbey dem did wed,
Hevrybadie who was anybadie was dere,
including Missa Natty Dread, wid wan sash
fi Red Stripe beer,
The men  looked dapper as can be,
top hats and morning coats,
sportin dem pedigree,
De Best Man waz hoffering commentary,
while the Weddin Party sauntered merrily,
Me no knoe how de Bride fine de Groom,
'cause de church dress up wid trees,
dem mussey raid the International Forestries,
Thank God far tradition 'cause de Bride fada
waded through the melee' like wan machette,
De Bridesmaid dem was as pretty as a pickcha,
lead by de Bride's sista, for a minute she looked
lika school teacha leading her pupils to dere fucha,
In two-twos it waz all ova,
den de Bride and Groom ditch de range rova,
spreeing through de Town Square,
as if dem a runway sumwhere,
Hall now dem no gawn pon no honeymoon,
a we dem a wait far an Indian monsoon?
Dem shuld pack dem bags an go faraway,
an enjai wan romantic holiday!
 
 
 
 

Tags: Poem: De Royale Affair