Tidal fair

To continue: after intensive research
it turns out that joy is best accessed
and assessed after a long soak. To that
end, and to restore the honour of all
who call themselves hedonists, the ghosts
of which I am honoured to number amongst
the greatest of my grief-testing allies, I have
the deepest honours to announce my latest
project: a full-scale recreation of the Vauxhall
Pleasure Gardens, except this time they shall
float, moored roughly where we can ascertain
London was before the Thames got really, really
hungry. At the trace embankment embark on the
very finest in resurrection bantering and frivolity:
an aqualung bandstand, a hermit in a conch,
rack punch sculled from passing kayaks.
Oh what delights I promise you, as pleasure
is my honour, a turtle master of ceremonies,
a hupstart milksop. Come come come come
come again, use your tidal freedom freely
and do not wait to be amused, for fun rests
for no sepulchral tongue or tide.