The May queen…

Today is May the first, true May day. It makes me think of morris dancers outside of thatched pubs, planting out, and the maypole that was everywhere when I was six or seven. Do schools still have maypoles I wonder - plaiting the red and white ribbons right down to the ground in a potent fertility dance. It's a strange time, not everything it seems, not all good, not all renewal and growth. There's a darkness to it; darkness and love and worship of the queen of the May.

I married the queen of the May - oh yes I did. Here's a verse to remind her.

The May Queen.

I got up from my chair before she’d even knocked the door. I don’t think I knew that she was there before. But opening it, there was she - head up, eyes bright: “I’ve come for tea, and I may stay the night.” “And you are?” Her broom sweeps the question clean away. “No sugar, only China.” I heard her say as she moved into my home - that Queen of May, sucking my life till every drop was gone. This Queen of May, mayhem more like… and yes, she stayed… and slowly killed my light.