Ahh festivals! Many of the happiest, funniest and craziest moments of my life have taken place in various colourful music filled fields. This poem seeks to capture some of that magic.

Fireworks explode with youthful passion

to soar among the stars.

To soar beyond the bars

and the beats and the shrieks,

to light wide eyes and wider smiles

spread for miles over fertile fields.

Fertile fields writhing

with painted bodies and tents

and unheavenly scents,

carried on the wind’s caress

of whispering lovers,

warm with sweat.

As lips and tongues explore soft sticky flesh,

limbs enmeshed in sequinned mass,

the lake licks at her downy banks.

Her dank cool depths tempt in passers-by,

as rough hands grip on tender thighs

beneath the glassy surface and the cries

of drug-fuelled pleasure rent the silky air.

Rent the silky air, without a care

in the glow of the summer heat.

Bass lines send hearts thudding through the night

as the senses fight through laughter and fright

and the bite of cider-soaked teeth meets tawny skin,

leaving it bruised and dusty with sin.