Summer,1967 Poem by Michael Calum Jacques

Summer,1967

Perhaps there was a hole in my shoe,
There were flowers in the rain, in San Franciscan hairlines, too.
George was best but discovered the Price of Fame,
Pirates went pop while Blackburn popped to 1.
Like Grocer Jack, Ruby Tuesday only lived once...
Never taking her love to town.
Yet white was a brighter shade of pale,
And blue suburban skies would never fail - except in
Hanoi, Saigon, Tulsa, Dallas and Massachusetts...
Perhaps…
Cousin Ken, in his own teenage opera,
Couldn't wake up on a Sunday morn...
Even in Loughborough.
Silence was golden, then,
Away from the madding crowd.
All you need is Ray, Dave, Dee, and
Love, students, hair, love, tie dye, flowers, love...
And fruitgum, says Simon - who couldn't bear the name Smith.
"Itchycoo Zabadak! " said Tabatha Twitchit (In white satin)
To the baron in a pinstripe suitcase.
Ha! Ha! Said the 'clowns', putting peaceful flowers in tank turrets;
Better than the M.A.D. kind of hush!
Peace?Perhaps...
It was just all too beautiful to relish
The last waltz in a Waterloo sunset, "Thank u very much"!
Perhaps...
The fool on the hill knew exactly what Mother should know,
And what we should've known... all those years ago -
On our kites of magic, mystery and daydream believing.
Never, ever, again;
No. Never, ever, again, perhaps...
The spirit of summer,1967.