I had lovers, drank with friends. I got wasted, spaced, misplaced the odd weekend.

Then came love, found my man. Seems like we had barely danced when this circumstance began.

We are the flint, the field and the forest

Born with the glint of steel in our eyes

In the purple distance, you think you see us,

Like mist, through the dawn

I’m tired of sleeping diagonally. I’m aching to be desired.

Non-smoking, articulate gentleman. Good Sense of Humour required.

Fog spread through the streets, the arteries of the great city, like a disease, a creeping sickness corrupting and blackening every organ, leaving the stricken metropolis coughing and gasping for breath.

Shed? This is not just a shed! It’s a palace of dreams this is. It’s H flipping Q of our seasonal plan of attack. It’s a shelter, it’s a storehouse, a tearoom, a workshop, a study, an office, a memorial even.

We spin and turn like leaves in the wind, dance to a tune not our own

Struggling to change what we cannot control, frightened of dancing alone.

Then from inside comes a flutter of life, warm and exciting and wild

Each tiny beat of an innocent heart, love in the shape of a child

We are here, at the beginning. Maybe 20 billion years in the past. We are about to observe the birth of a baby universe. Our universe.  To experience the awesome mind-blowing, cosmic power of the explosion to end all explosions and to start all things. The Big Bang

Perhaps the postman was rude to them. Perhaps he had a big sack. Perhaps he walked up the big path with a big sack. A sweet sack. A succulent sack. A big, sweet, succulent sack full of ... letters! (Pause.) Have a cucumber sandwich!