I was going to write

a short poem about Saturday,

but that would have been dreary,

like the weather outside.


So, I shall write a poem

about a Saturday from the past,

a day of sunshine

that all day did last.


It was sunny at dawn,

and when the sun set;

I hadn’t seen a day as sunny as that –

and I haven’t seen another one yet.


Not a drop of rain

from Land’s End to Groats,

calm were the seas,

with their small sailing boats;


and children did play,

and everyone laughed,

the breeze was quite gentle,

not considered a draught.


And everyone remembers

where they were on that day,

in 1976,

on the thirty-eighth day of May.


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