Tribute to the queen mother
bluey
Tribute to the queen mother from The Right Honourable the Lord St.John of
Fawsley. a.k.a. The Right Honourable the Lord Jesus Christ St.John of
Fawsley.
"With the passing of the queen mother we have lost our most treasured
national person. She was not merely an historical figure. She WAS
history....Her friendship was the greatest privilege of my life for which I
gave and give thanks every day...May Her Majesty enter into glory in the
court of the Lord of Lords and King of Kings."
(This is not a spoof. It's for REAL. Honest)
bluey (UK)
Breton
And your point is.......????????
Breton
mhlife®
"bluey" <sp...@depot.com> wrote in message
news:ZUxv8.44953$tZ1.9...@news2-win.server.ntlworld.com...
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There!! - you see?!, I *told* you that Norman StJohn Stevas was a world
class Olympian gold medal winner in the art of crawling!
All that talk about Hewitt! , pah!, he's just a rank amateur - for sheer
breathtaking servility your stake money is safe on Norm!
His obsequiousness may, in fact, never be equalled - and, almost certainly
not in our lifetime!
bluey
"Breton" <royalis...@yahoo.com> wrote in message
news:9e7f91cb.02041...@posting.google.com...
share it with real people who may not have seen it.
"May Her Majesty enter into glory in the court of the Lord of Lords and
My "point" speaks for itself.
bluey (UK)
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Susan Cohen
Breton wrote:
The Fawsley guy sounds at least like he's *nice*...
SusanC
bluey
"Susan Cohen" <fla...@his.com> wrote in message
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> SusanC
Hi! Susie. You got the wrong word old gal It's "nithe." (Geddit?) But I
suppose this schmaltzy pap would appeal to the nice lady you appear to be.
bluey (a nice chap)
bluey (UK)
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bluey
"mhlife®" <mhl...@clara.co.uk> wrote in message
news:101916592...@eurus.uk.clara.net...
( I ain't gonna comment on this one either...........!)
"Such charm, such selfless devotion to duty, such dedication to her family
and her people. Shall we never see that famous smile again, the one that
drives out demons and makes dictators cower?"
"Perhaps; when sunlight catches the dewy dawn on a British hedgerow. Or when
hoofbeats echo down a sleepy Cotswold lane. Or when the fragrance of
sizzling bacon reaches the nostrils of an unflinching sentry."
"But all such words are in vain - it is all too soon. But I seem to remember
the words of a traditional Scottish song: "There must be a place/under the
sun/where hearts of olden glory/grow young."
(From the homepage of Praggers, Brighton's user-friendly IT consultancy.)
bluey
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bluey
Here's another:( from Private Eye)
If I had to choose one garden that encapsulated the character of the woman
most it would be Birkhall. Held in by the Scottish landscape, it is a
bell-shaped potager encircled by a wide herbaceous border, a late summer
sunset of oranges, reds, purples and yellows, and bisected by a path flanked
with a broad ribbon of pink phlox backed by sweet peas. It is both pretty
and practical. Somehow, Birkhall combines in horticultural terms the Queen
Mother's resolute toughness, which was always concealed within a gossamer
overlay of fluttering pinks and blues.
Sir Roy Strong, Sunday Telegraph.
Read more at
http://www.private-eye.co.uk/
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