Fifteen minutes later
I pull into the Sandringham Estate car park
Already I know that this is my kind of place
I will take lunch in their cafe restaurant
But first to let the gardens overwhelm me
Down, through the avenue of limes, to the Buddha
Then a stroll, by the dark brown waters
Which hereabouts they choose to call lakes
I have the Whitby breaded whole-tail scampi
With a bottle of beer-shandy
Due to my latest diet I don’t do dessert
Though I am calling in at EH Prior & Sons, later
But no rush, not for now, it is a time to dwell, to look around
Find a quiet bench, or a seat under a pergola
Actually I stumble upon St Mary Magdalene Church
Which is bound to do something for me
Dust behind the door
Dust on the beams and lintels
A real sniff of the worship of royalty
Outside the headstones are arranged in rows
Back inside, I do take a few moments
Sit on a pew beneath a stained glass window
Look forwards to the altar, my view
Obscured, by tourists just like me
It is not a big place, but does look cared for
As it ought to be, if our princesses
Are to be christened here, as was
The nation’s favourite, the late Princess Diana
