The Gathering for me it meant
Not those who came and went
What grants put pants on seats
Totals to exchequer spent
To help us gloom and doom defeat
Increase our rise to affluent
From feeling this eternal Lent
To our shores the hordes that left
Beguile them back with songs bereft
Of any shame. come home and lend
Some Euros so the
Banks can mend.
This year the gathering for me
Was in the tunnel and in the field
My brassica in sumptuous yield
My gathered family to feed
The smallest hands on spoon and bowl
Inquires where does cabbage grow?
And I can bring her out and show
The Gathering of what I’d sowed.