Poetry

Sunday, 22 June 2025

Midsommer Moot

 There's a city going up in a village

Just on the outskirts of town

It's a cardboard cut out

But it's real, and you'll

fit in if you're a circus clown


There's a city going up,

But it's sinister

Or it's dexter and breaking bad

But I don't want to think of

The minister

When all he ever had was sad


Why not say it's a great occasion

Why not embrace the love

It's not free but neither is a raison

And their raising a city of doves


The whole time is a kind of madness

The midsummer spirit is rife

Even the weather in its moods is in on it

And it's a living the bohemian life


Well, whether the weather's a boheme

Or just a camper's scourge

You've got to expect the unexpected

But be sure all the sin it will purge


The rain is going to wash us clean

Then the sun will bake our bones

And just like a chicken wing

All the flesh is going to atone


But you've got to hold both hands up to the sky

And with one offer up your prayers

And with the other like a dragonfly

Hover until with gratitude you receive your cares

No comments:

Post a Comment