
A summer fair:
Skin against skin,
Rigged games never win,
Sticky hands at dusk,
Popcorn and popsicles,
Candy apple lust.
Ponies going up ponies going down;
Stardust wheel spins round and round.
Funhouse mirror dream distorted:
What you want baby I want now.
Purple twilight lemonade—
Shadows bend a promise fades,
Ponies rocking round and round,
Stardust wheel coming down.
A fair summer one and gone;
Winter bleached to the bone.
~*~
Photo by Lady Escabia on Pexels.com.
Poetry form: free verse.
©️2021 Paula Light and Light Motifs II. No unauthorized use permitted. Please check out Paula’s books for sale on Amazon. Thank you.
Well, you tagged it maudlin barf, but I liked it. I like the way you evoked that sort of electric pre-adolescent fervor that had nowhere to go amid all that glittery, commercialized excitement.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks. I’m tagging all my own poetry MB just because. Summer seems so sad to me now. I like your take.
LikeLike
I’ll be happy when summer comes this time. Too cold here. It’s 2;30 in the peeyem and it’s 17F!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Gah! I feel for ya, having lived in Chi-town.
LikeLike
What beautiful imagery created by your words Paula.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Sadje 💖
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love fairs. This is a fantastic poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me too! Thank you 💖
LikeLiked by 1 person