The Renaissance Pleasure Faire
by Sharmagne Leland-St. John
   inspired by a line from a poem written by MFrostDelaney

I miss the Renaissance Pleasure Faire
the children wearing flowers in their hair,
the vendors displaying
their hand-crafted ware.

I miss the Queen's procession,
the gigantic turkey drumsticks
at the food concession,
the tankards of ale
and the rose barrettes
I'd buy every year without fail.

I used to load up on
velvet leggings by the pair
at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire
my daughter wearing flowers in her hair.

I survey my surroundings
and see all the things I've bought there
at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire...
a harp, a kaleidoscope, a wreath of flowers
to wear in my hair.

A psaltry, a mirror,
made with such care
for the crafters to sell
each year at the Faire.

I wait patiently
to take my grandchildren there
where I'll weave flowers
into Dilly's long silken-hair
next May at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire.

Editor's Note:
To see photos of The Renaissance Pleasure Faire from the
May 2009 issue, check out:

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