For all my festival family
How many memories have you blown dry?
Hung up, pegged out, airborne remembrance signs,
So many billowed sheets, sailing not tied,
Standards and pennants, bright flags of all kinds.
Washed clean of their woodsmoke perfume bouquets,
The tales of long nights, and nights of long tales,
The sunscreen smear, wine spilt in drunken haze,
Red mud stains, falling when carrying ale.
A harlequin patchwork of costumes worn,
Outrageous, flirtatious gay but not gay.
Fit for the disco, the rave and mosh pit,
Spangled, we fandangles, our rainbow filled days.
Come out of retirement, recall the sun,
Memories need making, then washing done.
Please do leave me your thoughts and comments, in praise or constructive criticism, I appreciate them all and will reply.