Spring Fair

 Dear reader,

Country fairs originated from ancient seasonal European gatherings evolving from medieval trading markets into, by the 18th century, major spectacles of entertainment, agriculture and commerce.

While early fairs were strictly for trade, they transformed in the 19th century with mechanized rides, sideshows, and, in America, agricultural competitions.

Funfairs have been a staple for family days out in the UK for centureis.  One of the earliest fairs recorded was Bartholemew Fair in 1133.  The oldest fair in the UK is Goose Fair, a tradition for the ages.   Nottingham's Goose Fair is still going strong over 700 years later. The event started in the 13th century and is referred to as the world's oldest travelling fair.

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I wrote this poem after taking Jessica to a fair when she was about 17.  She really did disappear and I didn't see her again until the next morning. I never found out where she had gone and what she was doing. 

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 `From Dorothy Wordsworth   March 13th  1802 in Westmorland

'After dinner we walked to Rydale for letters - it was terribly cold- we had 2 or 3 brisk hail showers - the hail stones looked clean and pretty upon the dry clean road.  Little Peggy Simpson was standing at the door catching the hail stones in her hand.'

From Francis Kilvert   March 19th   1871 in Radnorshire

'The sun was almost overpowering.   Heavy black clouds drove up and rolled round the sky without veiling the hot sunshine, black clouds with white edges they were, looking suspiciously like thunder clouds.  Against these black clouds the sunshine showed the faint delicate green and pink of the trees thickening with bursting buds.' 

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Spring Fair                 

 

 

 

The young girl

and her mother, holding hands,

hurry down the hill

where the bright lights beckon,

see the big dippers hurtling,

painted horses swirling, yellow

swing boats diving, swooping,

smell the grease and diesel,

hear the loud beat of music,

the children’s screams.

 

Young men of the fair,

long-haired, dark, a little wild,

eye the girls with bright,

knowing looks.

The air is full of restlessness, of quickening,

an urgency to act

before the end of night,

when morning light will move them on.

 

Dusk falls, the young girl drops her mother’s hand,

stirred by the primal desire of early spring.

Running silently she disappears into the night, eager

to share what ancient fires of life can bring.

 

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With very best wishes, Patricia