I went on a Mediaeval Meditation Course when I was younger.
Obviously It was when I was younger – I am older now.
Gregorian chanting ruled the day;
we sang along in a plain, songy way.
In dingy dungeons – for ambience – we killed off all semblance of a pure silence;
rising and falling as the mood of the mode took us,
tailing off a moment too late, and not a moment too soon.
We howled at the Moon –
as you do –
and our voices reached out for sympathy,
or empathy,
or just a taste of freedom.
Seldom have been heard
such abuses of the song-sung word.
I shall return again one day,
unless the town council still have their say.
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