Night on the Town.

Wham is the cool backdrop,
To the evenings slow beginning.
Once so holy a place, sacred,
Newly escorting young desires,
To be opened up to loves' music.

Where priests would shame sinners,
A funky DJ rocks the air,
No longer for silent prayers.
Here will be the beginnings,
For many new love adventures,
And the ending of so many centuries,
Of moralistic values preached.

A crazy mixture, rich, lively.
And architecture from fables,
Tables not pews roam free,
Where the merrying crowds,
Lead and pull, vying for favour.

With one another they dance,
Energizing now the ripe mood,
Tired folk come to life,
And the fires deep within,
Begin to hear an audience.

We are connecting now, together,
With the unspoken law of melody,
To embrace the soul of union,
As our senses become dulled,
And our passions take hold.

Where poor rhythm was noticed,
We now see such Latin dancers.
Coaxed by the fever Pitcher,
the Piano plays tunefully,
And rising bass booms forth.

Here we go now, rocking,
Amongst friends confidence growing,
Feet moving freer, hips gyrating,
as the writhing mass moves,
Towards sweet chorus of joy.

Thump, thump, Mambo Italia.
Bodys grooving, swaying, flowing,
In release of the weekday blues,
As here lives well earnt freedom.
The night moves on a-pace,
Memories lost now in a blur,
Of alcoholic intoxication.
And even the sober struggle,
To remain untouched, unaffected,
As the rhythm pulls in revellers.

Many begin to tire, weakened,
Now on complete overload.
The street becomes a home,
To the milling throngs, hungry,

A feast now welcomed,
To sate the ravaged furore,
As into doorways people fall,
And myriads of fast food emporiums.

Only to be vomited far and wide,
On the crawl back home,
Where a very comfy floor,
Awaits these merry folk.






Nottingham Nights.