The World's Fair

The World's Fair

A Poem by Byron Patterson

The World’s Fair

 

They go on and on without a care;

Time there is not to stop and glair,

Because every clock in sight is bare

When everyone arrives at The World’s Fair,

 

Clumsy Spirits dance, shy ones dare,

And for the tired there exist no stair.

Every father and his heir

Has a place at The World’s Fair.

 

Some will stop and groom their hair,

Others simply kneel in prayer,

And many concern with what they wear

Before they go to The World’s Fair

 

But in the end, you are aware,

Although many will beware,

Always something is to share

When we go to The World’s Fair.


© 2017 Byron Patterson



Author's Note

Byron Patterson
Open to any feedback, but I'm particularly interested in how well you think the meaning gets across. Thanks!

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Reviews

not a rhyme fan...but i like this one...despite the rhyming...the pattern fits the subject...in second line i read "glare"

but yes...Every father and his heir...those traditions that carry on from one father to another...
and we the sons are recipients of this...i remember being taken to Yankee Stadium by my dad, and seeing Mickey Mantle play in his prime...my dad saw Babe Ruth at Yankee Stadium in his prime...
the lore of life...nicely captured here.

j.

Posted 1 Week Ago



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Added on October 30, 2017
Last Updated on October 30, 2017
Tags: The, World, Fair, Byron, Patterson, World's, Poem