Well within St Swithin's meter,
drenched in mire, bog and mud;
we toast friendship, undercover,
tentage sagging in the flud.
Merriment, fayre, sweet Mystery play,
come join our roust and doughty flay
of pompous hides, and seek a day
when common man, sings common lay;
for all, a Round, of blood.
edit 30.7.10
Comments
Pudding | July 23, 2010 - 13:57
not bad for a doodle - the sense of the festival is woven through this, nice stuff.
lenchenelf | July 23, 2010 - 18:43
Thanks so much Pudding, all the best Lena x
rjnewlyn | July 29, 2010 - 00:02
I liked the mixture of style in such a short piece. And 'flud' is excellent.
Rob
lenchenelf | July 29, 2010 - 08:06
Thanks Rob, I suppose I'd been trying to superimpose ghosts of thought in time into one scenario to bring sense of place and theme as a continuum of festivals, but in one image.
Not sure, It may require a good tweak :-) Thanks again Lena xx