Hymn In Praise Of Enthusiasts

Glory be to God for geeky folk
who choose to ride one life-long hobby-horse

Without them: bells hang dumb in steeples
sad breezes cannot sing their lolling tongues

footpaths revert to bramble patches, overgrown
and lost as Sleeping Beauty's castle.

wounded hedgehogs bleed into the verge
and no-one counts the sparrows’ fall

civil war battles are not re-enacted
so history’s just words upon a page

breeding pairs of eagles are not spotted
and small boys steal their priceless eggs

bells and sticks and hankies don’t cavort
all culture is homogenised TV

branch railway lines forget
the chug and puff of slower life.

A glorious fairground blares and beckons
but they spend all life’s pennies at one stall
and I - distracted by the lights, loud music
candyfloss - am in debt to them all.