To the fair? Do you truly dare?
Happiness you pay for
Nor the devil can remain in peace
…or so you’ll see
Gaunt faces, hollow smiles
Something old stirs in the veins of I
Fair folk songs filter through scorched
Midsomer nights, igniting the tarot
Fates old, withered soul once more bright
Guiding the unsuspecting
Along pathways
Illuminated by filament lights
Breathing new life into trapped vintage
Of days gone by, the Barker calls high
You’ll see more than you ever dreamed
Earth tone swags billow upon the breeze
Alongside cheers and cries
Puppeteer pulls
You in by his strings
Only the soothsayer sees what becomes of those
Who bend to his will…
Trust in the tower and its warnings of evil
Daunting yet alluring are the shadows of the big top
Ringmaster roars
Haunting, are the carousels calls
Feeding on passing souls
A lonely life
Full, if only for a few nights
No more pain
Until the faire comes again
Only next time…as the saying goes
You’ll wish you had run away
2022 © Melanie Whitlock. All Rights Reserved.