Cemented to the spot I observed the opening act on
Deadened legs took on insensibility whilst mud paralysed
to make them meet consciousness once more, I tried to
But mud wasn't having it, No she held tight, she held
I pulled, I strained but to no avail, mud held fast!
I tugged, I wrenched, I heaved, I hoed, I twisted, I
I performed this strange, peculiar dance.
But mud wasn't having it, No
she held tight, she held fast!
A poem by Gaynor Lewis - Illustrated by Julie Vermeille
band finished, applause hit the skies, the next band
found its place.
I didn't want to miss them.
So harder, much harder, I tugged, I wrenched, I heaved,
I hoed, I twisted, I turned…
And then suddenly…..
As I turned my back, I broke free of the darkened
I put my foot down.