Sunday August 28th, A glitch in the Matrix
Driving through the heart of Llanwrtyd Wells,
There’s a mysterious feeling in the air.
The sun is fraught, burning through the clouds,
Easing tensions in the crowds.
Over the bridge and down the lane,
In a rugged wilderness terrain,
Birds are singing way up high
As I begin to ask myself Why…?
The fabric of reality bends,
A whole new fantasy awaits,
As I pass through the gates,
First impressions seem in place.
But still, I’m unsure…
As I mingle with the herd,
I come across an affable horde,
Not unlike those I Know,
From back across the plateaux.
Looking on with bewilderment,
Their modern garb lacks the filament,
Standing there in their grace,
Yet it’s me who’s feeling out of place.
In this obscure expanse of land,
Where the air seems out of hand,
I’m unaffected by this breeze
But they are cautious not to sneeze.
With these pipes up in the air,
They seem to help with life in here,
For if they are not upon the face,
In the fist they embrace.
I’ve been brought up not to stare,
For fear to offend,
My eyes are drawn down to their feet,
An intriguing sight if you’re discreet.
As I come back through the whole,
Awakened from a dream,
I find the truth about this town,
As they compete to wear the crown…
It is I who was at a loss,
Not knowing what to do,
Every one around me knew,
The bog they say they snorkelled through…