CONVENTION
The Green Man leads with candle high,
The jester swallows flames and flies.
The
pyros work behind the scene,
Fusing shells red, blue and green.
The rockets racked, the fountains set,
The waterfall shall not be wet.
Balloon men roam, and hot dogs steam,
Excited children start to beam.
The show is soon, it's getting dark,
Little dogs will start to bark.
Spinning wheels of sparks and glitter,
Wind is getting cold and bitter.
Screeching dragons, whistling bees,
Little ones upon our knees.
The late night sky, finale fills,
With ever louder crashes, thrills.
Chrysanthemums and grand salutes,
Children scream and old men hoot.
Photo's, Art and Poetry
© 1994 Jackie
Whedbee
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