Commissioned Poems (Adults)

The following poem was commissioned by The Lymm Festival to celebrate its fifth anniversary (but sixth festival - confusing eh?)

The poem was written and performed by Helên Thomas and Jo Warburton.

Lymm - A Celebration

It’s got...

Orchestral extravaganzas,

Poets spouting stanzas,

Face paint, food fests,

And jiggy Morris Men dressed,

In baggy pants and jingy-jings,

Banging sticks and thingummy things.

Bards on a boat,

A Samba band banging,

Folkies at The Railway,

Buskers on a barge.

There’s nothing we’ve not seen.

What even Little and Large?

Well, no we’ve not had them – It’s the Lymm Festival darling!

Violin bands, concerts, summer evening culture.

It’s got…

Bridal frocks and strolls,

Town criers and maypoles.

Well no, it doesn’t have those!

It keeps actors off the dole

and that’s no hyperbole-ee!

It’s reported in the papers

With its comedy and capers,

Garlic bread and hot ciabatta,

Sundried toms and Kalamata

Olives.

It’s out of season for a panto,

It’s got choirs and Bel Canto,

For art lovers it’s Utopia,

It’s got Choral Cornucopia.

It’s got two ticket offices:

A florist’s and a garage – they could sell you petrol

And decorate your marriage.

No there’s nothing they won’t do,

To get those tickets sold you.

What even touting and selling on e-bay

for hundreds of pounds?

Well no, they won’t do that. It’s the Lymm Festival darling!

Fun for all the family. It simply isn’t Glastonbury.

It’s got...

Stewards fluorescing,

A committee effervescing

Especially after meetings,

Where planning’s overheating,

So it’s down the Bull for Bulmers

And other liquid help,

After getting this thing off the ground,

They need vitamins and kelp wraps and massage,

Floating on an old barge,

With wind chimes and gin and limes,

They’d bugger off to warmer climes if they could.

There’s nothing they won’t book.

What even Victoria Beckham?

Well, no they can’t afford her – It’s the Lymm Festival darling!

Art exhibitions, classics, picnics at Lymm Hall.

It’s got…

The Lymm film’s local history,

Melodramas, ghosts and mystery,

And every music fan rejoices

In the sound of Lymm young voices.

Sometimes it’s got mayhem,

Things go wrong.

Remember when…

Madonna told stories round Lymm Dam

With the Green Man?

Madonna, No?

No! Mad Honor, Honor Giles she must be bonkers.

She’s probably missing a few of her conkers!

Do you really think so?

No. She runs the Lymm Festival darling,

Which this year is six years old.

Happy Birthday Lymm Festival!

So much to see and do.

On Lymm Festival I’m sold.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Nor would I.

It’s got….

Well the list is endless it goes on and on.

Perhaps we should just end with a song....

Roll up, stroll up, listen to the poets,

Ranting out their verses with a rhythm and a rhyme,

It isn’t like old Wordsworth, they don’t do daffodils,

It’s more like gangsta rapping after downing lots of pills.

Well, some of it’s sassy,

Some of it’s classy,

Some of it’s weird I do declare!

They’ll have a go at anything, even if it’s trite,

They’ve done it on a barge and at The Railway half the night,

And on Lymm Cross one Sunday, remember what a sight?

At the Lymm Festival LAST year!

Stroll up, Stroll up, come and join the food fest,

Pasties, pies and pizzas, barbecues and buttered scones.

Savour curry flavours, in the Orient outside,

You may start out feeling slim,

But when you leave Lymm you’ll be wide!

But never mind your waistline,

Come and taste the red wine,

The chateau plonk is fine I do declare!

You’ll be feeling champion after you have had some chips,

With Canton chilli sauce, and smudgy chocolate on your lips.

Food fest’s got it all: tapas, salads and great dips.

At the Lymm Festival ev’ry year!

Roll up, roll up, come and bang a big drum,

Thump a Samba rhythm with a crowd stood all around.

It’s not like Morris dancing, where the lads have to be big,

All you need to know is how to wiggle and to jig.

They whistle right down the high street,

Bashing out the right beat,

With drumsticks and feet, I do declare!

So my friend, make no mistake, Lymm Samba band can make,

More racket than at Wimbledon, or a ten point two earth quake.

So, even if you’re sleepy, you will surely stay awake,

At the Lymm Festival ev’ry year!

Roll up, roll up your sleeves and buy some oil paint,

Tubes of watercolour, a big easel and a brush.

Why not be an artist, like Van Gogh or Titian?

Then you can show your work off in the art exhibition.

Or if you’re not ready,

You could show off your teddy,

And he could be Lymm Teddy of the Year!

A teddy that’s a champion is the big talk of the town;

One year we saw some of Lymm’s best Bridal gowns,

And what will this year bring? Honor never lets us down.

At the Lymm Festival ev’ry year!

Sit down, Sit down, come enjoy the picnic!

Fun will not be hampered by a spot or two of rain.

Thanks to the Cottrill Family, who let us in to dine

In their lovely blooming garden come rain, hail, sleet or sunshine.

So never mind the weather,

The ambiance is never

Better than at Lymm Hall I declare!

With musicians, bands and artists, Lymm has got it all,

Buskers, jazz bands storytelling and food fest goodie stalls,

Writers, chefs, and disco dancers, jugglers with their balls!

At the Lymm Festival ev’ry year!

‘Ave a banana!

At the Lymm Festival ev’ry year!

Thank you to Honor…

At the Lymm Festival ev’ry year!

Giles and the committee,

At the Lymm Festival ev’ry year!

It’s not The May Queen!

At the Lymm Festival ev’ry year!

Wey Hey!