A father shares his recollections of the fair. Writer's Cramp 8-30.
|When I was just a girl of three
My daddy put me on his knee.
He told me stories of a renaissance fair,
the impression it made on him while there.
A castle stood upon the grounds
A massive place—much like a town!
Inside this mighty castle’s walls
Were rides and thrills for one and all.
And so he ventured back in time:
Women were wenches and men were swine.
Peasants pushed old carts of hay,
Children frolicked and made horseplay.
Merchants sold their wares within
Sweets and meats brought folks on in.
A maiden sold sunflowers and seeds,
They attracted children like a honeybee.
Knights on horses jostled and fought,
Archers took aim at targets and shot.
Minstrels sang and recited verse,
Men drank ale, got drunk and cursed.
My daddy said the fair was grand,
the greatest fair of all the land.
Even the weather had a role to play:
the sun shone brightly on the fairway.
Until alas, there came an end:
storm clouds gathered to let rain descend;
Lightning cracked and thunder boomed,
the renaissance fair would end in gloom—
But my daddy enjoyed his memories,
and shared them all with me with glee.
He hoped one day to go back again,
and bring me along, his daughter and friend.