Birthday Solstice

Holy smoke..what heppened to the time? must have been that vintage cider!

Ladies and gentlement, tomorrow is the summer solstice and..yup..my birthday. Tis all a bit bemusing to be off an age where most people have children, mortgages, bald spots, and savings. I have ...an over active imagination, an exhausted liver and always the feeling of discombobulation that makes me feel that i am still searching for something elusive , strange and truly beautiful.
Maybe this year eh?

I want to say thank you for everything and everyone so far, even those who can't be here this solstice.

I am alright tonight..calm. I give you a poem what I wrote instead of usual ramble.
With much love:

The point.

I have done Gym

Time

I walk a hell of

A lot

On knobbly pavements,

In Cold rain

And still my belly rolls

and yaws

This little rotund body of mine

Stomping on along the snakes and ladders of

The calander.

Ahead,

A perfect

Bird

Waits

Head cocked;

My anxiety

Absurd.

Fairly magik

Yesterday I went to the Town and Country Fair with my floaty neighbour.. The weather was chilly and sunny in equal bursts with occasional splodges of fat rain drops …there is nothing quite like the English summer. My eyes have been a bit difficult this last week so at first I was subdued and sullen wandering around between the organic jam stalls and the sheep shearing.

Things brightened up considerably after I bumped into the vintage cider stall however. A swift glug or three and it all became 'perfekedly charmin’. '

At the far end of the field were two Suffolk Punches. From a distance they just look like big horses but when you are close they tower above you, all massive and golden and sweet smelling, with hooves like buckets and liquid brown eyes and soft grey noses. There are only 420 in the whole world. Even the Giant Panda has better odds on extinction. There is something otherworldly and magical about them as if they are moving through a slightly different air to us..

As I stood slightly hypnotised by the creatures, several men strode past with falcons on their arms, two sheep dogs rounded up some Indian river ducks for a wildly applauding, enthusiastic crowd, a group of glassy eyed, mid-exam-up-the-yazoo students shared a Wild Boar burger with chips and a toddler in wellies was virtually smothered under the weight of the five-foot long stuffed tiger her Dad had just won at the fairground.
‘You can’t make this up’ I thought heading back towards the cider tent.
And I didn’t.