Poets United has the prompt 'Carnival'.
Here's one I prepared earlier:
The air is thick with smells and squeals
Of food and kids and Ferris wheels
There are spruikers, dodgems, chips and stalls
Ghost trains, drinks and mirrored halls.
Gypsies who can read your mind
And snake oil vendors, of the finest kind.
From the outside, you can sense excitement
Oozing from every stall and bright tent.
Come in, come in, you wont regret it!
Life will depress you, if you let it,
Look! Over there, performing fleas!
Oh Daddy, Daddy, can we please?
Escape from life, leave the gloom behind?
Come kids, let’s go see what we can find!
But we must be away by ten, at latest.
Yea for Daddy! You are the greatest!
Good Sir, let me read your palms
Your end is written in the Psalms!
Get some donuts while they’re hot!
Or perhaps a beer would hit the spot?
A beer and two donuts, the hot jam ones.
And a sausage in one of those long buns.
Actually, I think I’ll have a second beer.
Balloons, balloons, get your balloons here!
Here kids, let me twist it into a hat
Or would you prefer a dog or a cat?
Hello, big boy, how can I please you?
Come to my tent and let me squeeze you!
Don’t worry, Bruno, here, will mind the brats!
No, thanks. Hey kids, look! Dancing rats!
Oh yuck! That’s vile. How truly gross.
Dad! Dad! Don’t get so close!
Oh, Dad! Can we go on that spinning ride?
Will you keep your food inside?
I well remember the last time, honey;
Dinner was a waste of money.
Hey, show your kids you are a man!
Make the bell ring—if you can!
Go Dad go! Give it a good whack, not a token!
Oh—never mind, it’s probably broken.
Oh look, it’s late, the time has flown,
One last ride then we must head home.
Or would you like to try out the guns?
It’s not fair, we are having fun!
We want to stay until we win a hat.
I knew they were going to tell you that.
Children are the great negotiators!
Repent now, prepare to meet your maker!
Come kids, you didn’t listen to what I said,
It’s time I got you home to bed.
The last folk leave, the night is late,
The spruiker shuts and locks the gate
The stoves are cold, they’ve cut the lights
The music’s gone and the place is quiet
The make-up’s off, the splendor shed
A drink is opened, a paper’s read.
In the caravans around the site
Ordinary people embrace the night.
© 2012 J Cosmo Newbery