Sunday, 24 August 2014

Carnival Escapology


                                Image of  Notting Hill Carnival.
                                ( Where I returned from earlier)

Sometimes the weight of the world,
feels like an inflatable balloon, filled,
                                      with tears,
leaving a permanent scar,
like a tatooists signature.

But cordial jet streams, pass upstream too,
heaving with notations, admission price zero,
turning down streets, flowing with rum,
the afternoon thunders along, with the pulse
                                              of adventure.

We join a carnival, follow sweet, perfumed air,
a procession of celebration, high on hope,
dancing to the throb of bass and drum,
voices laugh and sing, as strong community spirit,
                                                              is shared.

We drift, deeper and deeper,
get lost in mists of perambulation,
to find  the source within to rekindle
                                        and save,
to store in our hearts, waves of spirit,
that we hope, may never be erased,
from the rivers to the sea.
.
                       

2 comments:

  1. The waves of spirit will never be erased. From the river to the sea ...

    ReplyDelete
  2. I have now added that line.... it is now complete....thanks...:)

    ReplyDelete