A summer morning, Worsley woods, west of Manchester
the sun just peaking through the nest of trees
circle of tents in various spots
and a scout leader starting the beginnings of an altar fire
little faces pop out of the niger tents to grab a view
breakfast served at 8 am sharp
but first, a mug of tea
some make a break for the toilet block
as sausage and eggy bread sizzle in a pan
orders given to the sous chef … he keeps his eye on the food
and slowly the camp leader makes his way to the pole
and all stand still in observance
the flag is released from its bonds
and flies high in the gentle breeze , proudly to attention
and all present give a salute
before breakfast is served
The Inkwell 