Sonnet to Mike Pinder
by
Matthew Phelps

Once we youths of prepubescent age,
Who heedless heard the chords of cosmic muse,
Could rest no more in our suburban cage,
Since liberated by the Moody Blues.

O Brahma! Finding from that lofty perch
The penetrating gaze of Doctor Tim.
Those eerie sounds came with us on a search
And launched us round the universe's rim.

Then middle-aged and dull we lost our sight-
No longer ride a beam the speed of light -
Forgotten red is grey, and yellow, white.
The Band forgot it, too(But they're still tight!)

O find once more, ye Moodies, what's been gone -
Mike Pinder and his mellotron.

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Graffiti Lounge
Reading Room
Outer Space Art Gallery

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