Little County Fair

A Poem By Hannah W. // 9/11/2008

The lights that blink,
the rides that whir,
smells and sounds
become a blur

the music from the carousel,
the crowds meandering by,
the wagon wheels rolling along,
the ferris wheel so high

buttered corn and lemonade,
sugary funnel cake,
the laughter and the joy all round,
and trailing in your wake

spinning, soaring,
falling, turning,
up and down and round and round,
for this my soul's been yearning

the night-time glow,
the day-time bright,
taking in the sights and all,
looking left and right

stars and lights strung in a row,
against the darkened sky,
the cool night wind goes through my hair,
I feel like I could fly...

Here, a summer day's perfect glory,
such happy memories there,
I shall always remember
the little county fair


Good memories...

That makes me think of the "good ol' days" when I was little and we had an Annual Arabic Festival down the street - not quite a little county fair, but the closest thing to it I've been to since I was REALLY little.

Very well written. :)


Kyleigh | Mon, 09/15/2008