The Sweetcorn Festival was today (the day this was written, not posted).

[wheeerdball]

Something old
Somthing new
Something borrowed
Something grew

An old talent
Never claimed
Nothing brilliant
Nothing shamed

Through a hazy door
Push out the time
Commandeer this
By a search for rhyme

I will write slowly
Of what I think and feel
To push it out as well
And leave only steel