Yes, I fell into a rabbit hole. I had tea with a Mad Hatter and fought the Queen of Hearts. The song Mad World comes to mind by Tears for Fears. In reality, I have had some family drama and ended up going to Maine. I am sorry Hannah-I didn't get to meet you. I hope to return next spring-perhaps we can meet then~
I found this book, about a girl who starts a poetry club based on Emily Dickinson and of all things a Ferris Wheel. I bought the book-I am not quite sure why?! Perhaps because I liked the title, Hope Is A Ferris Wheel. The main character is the same age I was when poetry illuminated my world. It is a YA read and endearing. I will pass it on to a young poet I know.
Poetry offers us hope-a secret language to share things we rather not fully process, a way to paint with words other worlds, views and insights. Poetry is a gift!
Today, I invite you to visit the fairground with me. In September, the last agricultural fairs are being held, back where I am from. Between the red tents, there is a hive of energy as swarms of people head to the Midway. Some people love the rides, or games and everyone has their favorite treat. I love the aroma of Candy Cotton, French Fries with Malted vinegar, Dough Boys or Elephant Ears and popcorn. We relive our childhood in a colorful whirl of giggles and screams. The fairs of my childhood always had a haunted house or a Fun House of Mirrors. Let's not forget the awards for huge pumpkins, blue ribbon pies n' pickles and prized animals to visit.
So, your challenge is to pair something you love at the carnival a ride, the food, a game-with a favorite poet. Let's take Poe in the Fun House of Mirrors, or Dylan Thomas on a Merry-go-round or ride in a twirling Tea Cup with Emily Dickinson. You get to pick the poet and your favorite aspect of the fair. You can add a line of poetry from the poet you select or not. I look forward to your poems-you can shock us, amaze or make us laugh~
One must make a distinction however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the result is not poetry, nor till the autocrats among us can be “literalists of the imagination”—above insolence and triviality and can present for inspection, imaginary gardens with real toads in them, shall we have it.