Download the full ballad, for free, as a PDF here: The Ballad Of Stokes Croft
The carnival was over, and The Canteen was filling up with life.
The day had handed over to the evening, who would pave the way for night.
From beyond our street the sound of reggae still rose up,
intertwined with technodelic-acid-dup-trip-hop.
As the sunlight stole away, the counter-culture quarter lit the dusk.
Upon the stage – one end, inside – the pedal-beat bass skin shockwaved the air.
The singing strings were carried too, electrically-amplified and clear.
The speakers propelled human voice that surfed and swam with ease,
both at one with music’s waves and ‘bove them like a breeze.
Taking on the tidal force, the counter-culture quarter filled the place.
The benches and the bushes on the fencing outside funnelled all on through,
up the steps and ‘tween the rails, via the windows (and the front door, too).
With stickers on the pillars and with painting on the glass,
with ash-trays out of plant pots and with plenty being passed,
drowning in the moment, now, the counter-culture quarter rose: released.
Image credit – Top Brunch