I was fortunate during my degree studies to take a couple of trips to Stratford to attend performances of Shakespeare plays by the RSC. The first year, my daughter came with me to see Taming of the Shrew and A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was a thrill to see Queen of the Fairies, Titania, flying around the scenery in acrobatic aerial work.
Several years ago, there was a Midsummer's Eve music event held in the local village of Great Eccleston. We didn't know what to expect but there was a stage in the centre, with a band so we drank, danced and sang into the night. A garden had been decorated with fairies and lights. It was a lovely and surprising experience.
A friend was visiting from Australia and I was keen share English heritage with him, so I booked tickets for an open air performance of Romeo and Juliet at Fell Foot Park in The Lakes. We packed the picnic basket, spent the day in Bowness and settled onto our blanket late afternoon. The performance was fantastic and completed as the sun dropped below the horizon. The day was made even more delightful by the hooting of a tawny owl as we left for home. Perfect.
I still seek out open-air Shakespearean performances. I was particularly disappointed when one at Williamson Park in Lancaster was abandoned due to a thunderstorm, but I did attend a really enjoyable play at Lytham Hall more recently. There was one evening at Croston Hall that was unforgettable.
Midsummer Madness
On midsummer afternoon
as the sun scorched the lawn
the derelict Jacobean Hall
stood as towering backdrop
to our picnic in the park.
The Scottish play performed
like chilled water
dancing pleasant fingers
of tingling excitement
down the curve of my back
A burst of cool strawberry
bathed in glutinous cream
melted on my tongue
washed by cold, dry fizz.
You tried to be cool. I was hot.
I watched the sword fight.
hot tempers
and felt your warming smile,
bright eyes piercing my chiffon dress.
It was hot.
My thoughts ran away
to seduction
to the shade of the trees
to the circle of your arms.
Suddenly the image was gone,
Vanished in the sultry mist,
as applause filled the air,
with the sound of others.
When we packed away the basket,
you lightly brushed my ankle.
A rush of hot blood. A fiery flush
A glistening bead coursed
the valley of my breasts.
We sat outside the pub
with long, cool drinks
with Latino music
with another audience.
The mercury rose.
Speeding home
your hand left the wheel
to seek my skin
and the warm breeze blew my mind.
We rolled out the rug
and rolled like bears
beneath the shade
of the mighty copper beech.
It was hot.
You were hot.
I was hot.
The ground was cool
Through the latticed leaves
we saw the stars
and promised them to me.
It was Midsummers Eve
and wow, it was hot!
Thanks for reading. Adele
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