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The Ceremony of the Pasty, Tea Tent and Today’s Poem

04 Apr

What a cracker of a morning taking part in The Ceremony of the Pasty! If you’d like to see it and hear us singing, here is the link  https://www.periscope.tv/battersea_arts/1BRKjMLjPQVxw  The whole event was live-streamed by Battersea Arts. To find out more about the Ceremony, do watch the video. I love the seagulls joining in with us. The little dog you can see within the choir is Brea, a little beauty.

The Lord High Chancellor of the Pasty presenting the enormous pasty to Emma to be taken up to Battersea

The Lord High Chancellor of the Pasty presenting the enormous pasty to Emma to be taken up to Battersea

The Lord High Chancellor with the High Tidings recording of sea sounds and Cornish stories, also going up to London on the train as soon as the Ceremony is finished

The Lord High Chancellor with the High Tidings recording of sea sounds and Cornish stories, also going up to London on the train as soon as the Ceremony is finished

Brea

Brea

In the tea tent

In the tea tent on Lemon Quay at the Truro Festival

In the tea tent

In the tea tent

It is Maya Angelou’s birthday today and here is one of my favourite poems, Still I Rise, for women everywhere.

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

 

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