Our rhyming monarch of the pen

IT was the Queen Mother's beloved Highland retreat, a haven where she holidayed every summer for almost 50 years.

And it seems her love for the Castle of Mey was shared by her daughter.

So much so that the Queen, displaying a hitherto unknown talent for poetry, was moved to pena tribute in verse to the enchanting 16th century castle after enjoying a short visit there.

The 16-line work, headed 'To HM Queen Mum from HM Queen', has been pasted into the visitors' book ahead of the 30-bedroom castle's By James Mills opening to the public this weekend. It describes the Queen's regret at having to leave the estate near John O'Groats for her own Scottish residence, Balmoral.

The poem talks of 'A meal of such splendour/Repast of such zest/It will take us to Sunday just to digest'.

The Queen goes on to say that her heart 'will remain at the Castle of Mey' and concludes with the line, 'So roll on next year'.

The poem was written after a one-day visit on August 13, 1993, during the Royal Yacht Britannia's traditional Western Isles cruise.

The Queen put pen to paper when she returned to the ship. The poem was then transcribed by a servant on a coastguard message form which was taken to the castle.

The form - complete with a misspelling of the word splendour - has now been pasted into the visitors' book.

It is also signed by Prince Philip, Prince Andrew, Princess Anne and Prince Edward.

A spokesman for the castle trustees said: 'We think the coastguards took it up to the castle. It's nice to have - just a bit of fun.' The Queen's literary efforts were praised last night by the Poetry Society, whose vice-president is the Poet Laureate Andrew Motion.

Society director Jules Mann said: 'It's refreshing the Queen turns to poetry to express her feelings.

'We often think poetry is something which happens in times of grief or stress, but it's lovely to hear when someone is moved to write by a happy occasion.

'I think it also shows Her Majesty has a sound knowledge of how to write a poem.' As a child, the Queen had regular poetry lessons at the behest of her grandmother Queen Mary.

The castle, on the north coast of Caithness, was the haven where the Queen Mother escaped the pressures of court.

She fell in love with the place the moment she set eyes on it during a visit to Scotland after the death of her husband King George VI in 1952.

Declaring that it 'stood alone, just like me', it was the place where she sought solace following the loss of her beloved Bertie.

She spent 12 years restoring the crumbling structure and enjoyed a summer visit there almost every year for five decades.

Shortly before her death last March, after a series of discussions with Prince Charles, she instructed lawyers to set up The Queen Elizabeth Castle of Mey Trust to ensure a future for her home that would benefit the people of Caithness.

The castle opens its gates to the public tomorrow for its first full tourist season.

Last summer, the venue was open from August and attracted 23,000 visitors.

Among the guests expected this summer are Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles, who are due to holiday there and continue a family tradition.

j.mills@dailymail.co.uk

To HM Queen Mum from HM Queen

Although we must leave you,

Fair Castle of Mey,

We shall never forget,

Nor could ever repay,

A meal of such splendour,

Repast of such zest,

It will take us to Sunday,

Just to digest.

To leafy Balmoral,

We are now on our way. But our hearts will remain, At the Castle of Mey.

With your gardens and ranges,

And all your good cheer,

We will be back again soon

So roll on next year.

With apologies to HM, SIMON HEFFER offers some odes of his own

HIGHGROVE GARDENS

Hell talk to a daisy

Hell talk to a tree

Hell talk to a rose bush

But he wont talk to me.

I telephone Highgrove

I ask where hes at

Hes out in the garden, Maam,

Having a chat.

I just want to catch up

Its months since we spoke

But hes busy conversing

With an interesting oak.

Yet again I am thwarted

I slam down the phone.

A magnolias busy

With the Heir to the Throne!

Ones working day

I do love my people

And they do love me.

They make me as happy

As a monarch could be.

I go out in my carriage

And they stand and cheer

I wave regally at them

I find them quite dear.

I do love my people

And they do love me

They all built great bonfires

For my Jubilee.

I open their hospitals

Dole out OBEs

And if I have to knight them

They sink to their knees!

MY PRIME MINISTER

He drops in on Tuesdays

When he can be damned

Hates bowing and scraping

And calling me Maam.

His job is to tell me

Whats done in my name

He finds it quite tiresome

I find him a pain.

Hell sell down the river

The people I rule

He thinks I wont notice

He thinks Im a fool.

Britain in Europe

Your times up, they tell me,

For last night Blair rang

To tell me the aims of

Old Giscard dEstaing.

I wont be a sovereign

There is a new plan

For us to be run by

Old Giscard dEstaing.

Our Parliaments going

With our rights down the pan

We must do as were told by

Old Giscard dEstaing

This Euro-conventions

More than I can stand

Wish I were as royal as

Old Giscard dEstaing.

These days, of course,

I cant send him to the Tower

But I might one day smack him

With my prerogative powers.