And the good news, we're starting the day with poetry from Melissa Sparrow. A lovely one called "The Festival is Nearly Over - on the Feast of St Bartholomew"
The Festival is two days through
And as, excited, we awake
to see what joys are brought today
we know that Time will, greedy, take
the minutes sweet we share today
the resting, glad, in sun-kissed leys
the thoughts, the hopes, the gladdening dreams
soon darkness falls, the daylight flees
and only two days are there left.
For half of one, we'll pack away
the tents, the cooking stoves and pans,
so only one day left, I'd say.
You've from Kettering or Poole
from Edinburgh or from Dover
but never mind how far you've come
this festival will soon be over.
Even a long weekend goes by
then next week, dull September calls
and children will go back to school
and watch outside as harsh rain falls.
Then Autumn circles like a wolf
as leaves go brown and woodlice creep
we'll shuffle through the dreary rain
instead of watching fields of sheep.
So make the most of what you have
and as you think of dark and damp
November morns, enjoy the sun.
Before forever taking down your camp.
Death death death
Death death death
Death death
Death.
"A Hint of Death in the Morning Air" - 97 poems to make you wonder, laugh or shake your head sadly. At only £1 on Kindle. Or if you want to know what the people in the pews really think, and you prefer your words printed on paper, why not try "Writes of the Church"? The letters to the Church magazine the vicar really didn't need.
Oh dear. I assume Melissa has worked her magic, and NGB has re-enacted too realistically 2 Kings 19:35: "and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead corpses."
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