I was strolling in the park when I saw a tree moving across the grass. There was a blackbird sitting on a branch whistling come fly with me. It was a really hot afternoon, phew it was hot. It was snowing too, not ordinary snow. It was more like whirling pink popcorn.
There was big puddle to one side of me. The water was every colour of the rainbow and the sun was setting in it. Pretty. There was a little maidmer sitting on a stone in the middle. She was like a mermaid, only the other way round - a fish with gorgeous long silky legs and twelve pretty painted toenails.
A grotesque woman came gliding toward me. I thought she was on roller skates. Only she wasn’t, she was being carried along by a huge bunch of multicoloured balloons. You should have seen her! She looked like a cross between a pantomime dame and a bawd. Disgraceful I thought. Suddenly the blackbird swooped down and pierced the balloons with its beak. Pop pop pop.
I was about to ask her for a date and she went pop too. The barbaric bird then grabbed her gaudy clothes in its claws, stuck its tongue out at me and flew up the moon.
Don't believe me? Well, it was London, and it was the sixties. I will say no more!