Anticipation of the Toulouse Organ Festival where Brian was invited as music critic.

Thirteenth of October and the sun

Tries to pretend that it's still summer

But the trees know

It's nearly Holloween

And leaves trace their way

Towards the bonfires and the smoke.

Two pigeons sit upon the bathroom roof

Waiting for the bird-seed to appear

Warding off a magpie

Who tries to muscle in

And steal it all.

Our fox sneaks to the back door

For the bits and pieces we put out

Each night

Covered by the dark

And unclipped hedge.

Behind the window I could fool

Myself that all is warm and bright

But in the garden's leaf strewn rout

I breathe the coming autumn night.

Four o'clock? What time of day is that?

And why are we up long before the birds

Have even scratched themselves or next door's cat

Has slunk back home to eat - oh, it's absurd.

Of course we've got to fly off to Toulouse.

While easyjet still goes there twice a day

We have to get up early or we lose

A morning's shopping before we make our way

To the first concert at the Augustins

-a contest between Sweelinck and John Bull -

And only then d we seem to begin

To feel awake and ready for the pull

            Of lunch in Place St Georges and - joy at last -

            The glory of a simple French repas.

Brian Hick

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