The Fair

The colors!

The sounds!

The space!

Gripping daddy’s hand to keep pace.

The crowd as thick as honey as they squeezed through the gates.

Faces painted, smiles all gaping;

We’re all here for the fantasy that awaits.

The smell of buttery popcorn wafts through the sun setting air,

Dancing with cotton candy in a sweet salty afternoon affair.

Young lovers stealing kisses on the tops of carousels.

The sounds of winning patrons marked by high pitched ringing bells.

The gypsy whispering fortunes in an accent deeper than the sea.

The fireworks and the sparkles gaining the crowds’ applause for free.

The lonely yellow balloon drifting slowly into a crimson sky,

And the child who once owned it, crying and waving goodbye.

The silky feel of soft teddies after a triumphant win,

At throwing tennis balls to hit cans into a bin.

The taste of the soft milky icecream,

Melting like dripping tears.

The young men standing around drinking and the crushing sounds of their empty cans of beers.

The squeals of of laughing children as they race around the ground.

All swirl into the charm cast by the magic of the fair ground.