Tuesday, 1 September 2009

‘Try to remember the kind of September'

Well here we are then; September a month of change moving from the warmth of summer (what summer) to the magnificent, brilliance and splendour of autumn’s glory when the leaves fall from the trees majestically back to mother earth then swept up bagged by the council and composted one hopes?

So the year moves on its unstoppable journey one season ending another starting, days shorting and nights lengthen until the bleak mid winter. Soon be Christmas then?

But before the years end; there’s the little matter or rather ‘matinees’ of the party conference season first, that spectacle, that mixture of showmanship, spin and stage-managed matadors strutting there stuffing. The leaders of all the three capitalists parties suited and booted take to the pulpit and plea there case to right the wrong and face the foe and save our nation from devastation; as if!

All most daily now we are being told through the press and media that the recessions end is in site, that dry land has been spotted from the crow’s-nest and Captain Pigs-wash Brown (sorry, Gordon) has told the crew it’ time to berry the treasure from Black Jack Cameron and his band of cutthroats, but cabin boy Darling Tom informs the Captain: “Captain we have no treasure” ..No treasure Darling Tom asks Pig-wash; “where's it all gone”, Tom replies; “the bankers have taken it to the bottom of the deep blue sea Captain”.

I’ve just arrived back home from spending some time with my homeless friends, at the handout at London’s Lincoln Inns Fields. The nights are pulling in and the wind was blowing the leaves from the trees as the men gathered as they do every night for the evening meal. And as we waited and chatted with each other; I thought of that song my dad use to like; ‘Try to remember the kind of September”.

Try to remember when life was so tender
That no one wept except the willow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That love was an ember about to billow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow.

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