An ode to Reading Festival…

Oh, Reading, Reading – where art thou?
Cast into the shadows of thy past.
Visiting your scenic beauty in my youth,
Your memories will forever last.

A group of us visited by coach and train.
To watch bands play live in the sun.
Sunglasses, bags and cameras galore.
To take polaroids aplenty of fun.

Staggering to the campsite with tents and pegs.
Music blaring all around.
Finally erecting the temporary home,
It is, indeed, a fabulous sound.

The first night dawns, campfires await.
The cold, harsh wind unpleasant news.
We’ve made new friends quickly – they’re wonderful, great.
Hurry, we’ll be late for Muse.

Second day arrives, mud casts its ugly face.
There has been a most unpleasant dent.
Lighting fireworks in the campsite – bad idea.
One flew into a neighbour’s tent.

With that forgotten, day two beckons.
Overpriced food enters the fray.
Sunburn on my neck, clothes tattered and worn.
Never mind – ****ing Green Day!

Mosh pit forgotten, day three is here.
Arms raised, waving our lighters.
Slipknot are on, too noisy for me.
Still love Dave and the Fighters.

The journey home arrives, the blast is done.
Reading is certainly no slouch.
If you’re going this year, have one on me,
I’ll be watching from the warmth of the couch!

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