At The County Fair

Written for:  Poets and Storytellers United
Weekly Scribblings #87:  "Let's Go To The Fair"
(posted by Rommy)

"For today’s prompt I want you to write about one (or more) things you might find at a fair and write about that. Possibilities include (but are not limited to) cotton candy, Ferris wheels, ring toss, merry-go-rounds, corn dogs, and roller coasters."


It was a county fair
without any scary bears,
though pigs did race,
and chickens paced.
In stalls, handsome horses;
in pens a goats' chorus.
Quilts were blue ribbon,
not for sale or quibblin'.
Fried, fried, fried,
Oreos, pickles–that's no lie.
I spotted my corn dogs
for which I longed.
Soft custard stands,
for pistachio I ran.
Look at all those high rides.
They churn up my insides.
Children drip ice cream cones,
teenagers stay on phones.
Fun for all, this county fair,
Oh how I wish you were there.

https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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13 Responses to At The County Fair

  1. Nice imagery. Those fairs can make people so very happy

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  2. Nice to let our hair down and have fun – whether at the fair or writing about it.

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  3. -Eugi ☕️ says:

    I wish I was there too! Delightful piece!

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  4. Kestril Trueseeker says:

    I’ve still never tried a fried Oreo yet. My kids tell me they are pretty good.

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  5. Jim says:

    All the right things to see and do here, Sara. Ever since the started I have wanted to see a pig race but that just didn’t ever work out. Someday.
    ..

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  6. Cara Hartley says:

    What a delightful poem! It really captures the feeling of the county fair.
    I’ll admit that I love me some deep-fried stuff, but I draw the line at a deep-fried stick of butter. That’s a little too rich even for my cast-iron stomach.
    Yes, I have encountered such a beast.
    Cie AKA Ornery Owl

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