Balmoral Castle
Yesterday I received an e-mail from one of my readers,(September 27, 2012) and she asked me what was it like writing for the Queen of England? was it intimidating?
I'm really shocked that I still get asked that question since it was back in August, 2008. But since it still comes up every so often I figured I would write about it for those that still want to know.
Writing for the British commonwealth Elizabeth II was a wonderful experience, exciting, but most of all an honor.
When I write my creative juices go into overdive, and a million ideas start racing around in my head like they are on a conveyor belt.
The only thing I was thinking about at that time was which idea I was going to set forth on paper. Plus when you write for so long you really don't get intimidated, writing becomes as easy as breathing.
Due to the Queen is revered by her loyal, humble servants, and sits upon a thrown of great praise everyday. That's exactly what I didn't want to do in my works.
I wanted to present the Queen with something unique, out of the ordinary, something she has never experienced before.
So I wrote a poem titled, "O' Blessed Nightingale" a rural poem, using symbolism to embody the spirit of Elizabeth II. Touching slightly down on her royal statue to give the respect of her title, But giving it the uniqueness of my idea.
Here is the poem "O' Blessed Nightingale" I wrote for Elizabeth II, and after I will show you how I presented the poem to the Queen. (Presentation is very important)
"O' Blessed Nightingale"
O’ Blessed Nightingale,fair light-feathered angel,
turned in flight about the forest green.
Where the small hours sweetly
Shadowed the crystal streams and flowering hills
And dawn will never answer.
The days pale complexion has long grown dim,
And it’s placid skies are overpowered
By the empress moon.
That rich light brings numberless
Shades of love and speech to the customary clouds,
Where the wondrous climbs know of its bright settings.
Pure gale will fan those noble wings of golden tender
From on that cedar bough
To soar above those wind driven trees
That couch her nest .
Where every high note heard is
Where every summer eve breathes and flies.
O’ Blessed Nightingale,
O’ Your mused song
O’ the thunder that sweetly trembles,
When she beat her majestic wings in flight.
Composing that choral symphony that softly serenades,
The tranquil night, with that melodious theme.
Twilight's sparkling fays turns the wheels of heavens
Starry chariots, Where the earth angelic sky breathes easily the music.
The South West regions are struck by the midnight sun
Where the cheerful meadows, glisten from in it’s bright columns.
And the warming winds turn the golden leaves
Where the falling dew sweetly moistens the laurel groves.
In a stand of climbing rays that rain fair upon the open glades.
A veil of triumphal lilies held about a dreamy field
Are taken from her gleaming brow.
Where heavens pathway has been lost and her high
Celestial spirit flies by night above the tall
And slender plains.
Soaring freely about this lucent earth.
(c) Valentinno 2008 all rights reserved.
_______________________________________________________________
Presentation
The way I presented the poem was in a beautiful script font on velum paper with a water mark floral design, then placed it in a matching leather presentation folder in a clear sheet protector
I packages my work in a custom made purple box (Purple is the color of royalty) which was covered in designs of the Queen's favorite flower (A rose) and a custom gold bow.
Where every summer eve breathes and flies.
O’ Blessed Nightingale,
O’ Your mused song
O’ the thunder that sweetly trembles,
When she beat her majestic wings in flight.
Composing that choral symphony that softly serenades,
The tranquil night, with that melodious theme.
Twilight's sparkling fays turns the wheels of heavens
Starry chariots, Where the earth angelic sky breathes easily the music.
The South West regions are struck by the midnight sun
Where the cheerful meadows, glisten from in it’s bright columns.
And the warming winds turn the golden leaves
Where the falling dew sweetly moistens the laurel groves.
In a stand of climbing rays that rain fair upon the open glades.
A veil of triumphal lilies held about a dreamy field
Are taken from her gleaming brow.
Where heavens pathway has been lost and her high
Celestial spirit flies by night above the tall
And slender plains.
Soaring freely about this lucent earth.
(c) Valentinno 2008 all rights reserved.
_______________________________________________________________
Presentation
The way I presented the poem was in a beautiful script font on velum paper with a water mark floral design, then placed it in a matching leather presentation folder in a clear sheet protector
I packages my work in a custom made purple box (Purple is the color of royalty) which was covered in designs of the Queen's favorite flower (A rose) and a custom gold bow.
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