Day Seventeen: The Flea Circus

What a wondrous thing the flea circus is!

Little babes in hand of the impressioned man

And lovers of the country, adorned in fineries

To the spring time fair. They pray for a lovely

Weathered day, they pray for a Holy care.

The crowd approaches, so brightly refined, under

An enormous tent of red and gold,

to watch the marvelous drama unfold!

A little one cries out: Oh tentman, will you show us

Your marvelous things?

Little one, he replies, this show will be fit for kings!

Come one, come all, lovely ladies and courageous gents!

‘Tis a fine day, ‘tis a kind way, that so many of you

Turned out to see my humble show. Without further ado,

My little wonders I show to you!

And the silken veil was lifted,

And the little wheels squeaked

And the littlest of babes craned their necks to peek…

 

Golden bars striped a tiny red tent

That upon a tiny three-ring circus lent,

And a crowd of fleas gathered

On a cloudless day to watch an

Invisible attraction start to play.

And the gossamer mechanisms

And tiny instruments were left unspent.

 

And a hush fell over the crowd, shocked,

For they were not afraid to die.

Someone comforted the children, and took them far away

And they all went to their homes that night,

To await the return of day.

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I know the rhythm’s a little off, but this still made me a little sad to write it… And now I’m quite sad to post it. Anyway.

 

Life goes on.