It isn't easy being Queen. So much is expected of me. I can only do what I can do. Fortunately, I have my talking chicken Henrietta to help me greet the day. After tea, Polly the Princess of Poetry recites a poem or two. Lately, Sir Read-a-Lot informs me about new books. I just call him RA for short.
1 comment:
I say, that Queen Mum is a hoot! She's, um, so...hip. She plays a mean banjo, or should I say b-a-h-njo. Cheerio! Barb
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