FAIRY FLOSS
Right beside the tent
Where the eight foot man
And the dancing elephant
And the trapeze girl flying,
Doing her death-defying tricks,
Sat the royal-blue booth
Dotted with pink crystal-clear
Winged creatures so small you'd
Miss them except your nose
Reeled toward their fairy scent,
Undetectable to conscious mind.
There flying around in tin,
You see three fairies holding
Sticks chest high, they spin and spin
Making your eyes water,
Dragging your tongue out,
Starting your fingers reaching
For a thousands thin strands
Of cooling-liquid sugar that
Truly melts in your mouth
And not on your thumbs.
© CUPIDEROS, Saturday, March 24, 2007
This poem can be found in the book below. The Great Opera a book of mysticms and philosophy about the world we see here below and the spiritual world above.
