After the rain the sun

after the sun the North Circular's joust

low silhouettes of abrupt streets

then sunset of Essex

no brochure could contrive.

 

    In the marquee the tableware set

reams of cutlery arranged

flattering on white

napkins rising majestically

small flower sprays,

a legion of glasses

and profoundly grinning the melon segments

with their tears of joy.

 

Gold painted chairs with bows and skirts

tiny cards for the special day

Mr and Mrs Silverstein

next to Nanny and the children

poised resplendent the toastmaster

gavel in hand. 

 

With five minutes to go, fever taut

the drummer arrived

perilous in his frantic rush

with a flash of black a drumcase crash

top table collapsing Poseidon adventure

in the fray too late for tempers

a host of caterers saved the day.

 

    Never trust a late musician

always the proudest

always the loudest

and, after the gig, the first away.