Thursday, 7 January 2010


I walked across a field one day,
That stretched before me on my way,
And had a vague idea of home
But, strangely, it was monochrome.
I needed colour, techno too,
To find my one and only route,
When suddenly my fortunes changed;
The pale sky burst with rains of paint.

With effect, immediately fine,
The greys and blacks and whites declined,
And greens and yellows and reds arose,
But so unlike you would suppose:
The grass was blue, the hedges red,
The sky emerald overhead;
The whole event was frightening,
I cowered beneath gold lightening.

It was then I recognized the smell
Of fumes about to overwhelm,
So I ran as quickly as I could,
Over a hill, into a road.
And as I stumbled to my feet
I noticed that the air was sweet,
And all the colours in the town
Were correctly spread around.

I never lost my way again,
Whilst walking home from anything,
And never frowned on black and white,
Or looked for aurora late at night.
And anytime a friend would say
Repel that person dressed in grey,
I would defend their right abroad,
To be exposed in Ilford.

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