Village Fete

We had walked for miles over hills and stiles
When a strange sound filled the air.
Then my wife and I were confronted by
A delightful country fair.

There were crowds all dressed in their summer best;
Coloured bunting hung from trees;
Lots of girls and boys making lots of noise
And the flags flapped in the breeze.

There was roll-a-ball and a hoop-la stall
And a brass band on the green.
There were childrens’ slides, little donkey rides
And the village beauty queen.

An old lady sat, with her wide-brimmed hat,
Selling homemade lemonade
And a flower show in a gazebo
Had the blooms so well displayed.

The tombola stand held a winning hand
As the punters came and went.
A man juggled fire as he walked a wire
Near the fortune-teller’s tent.

Then a mighty roar from the tug-o-war
Rent the sunny afternoon
And the children pranced as the folk team danced
To the fiddler’s catchy tune.

We were swept along by the dance and song
And we wandered to and fro,
But the time sped by and my wife and I
Had a few more miles to go.

Then she tugged my sleeve; it was time to leave
And she gave my hand a squeeze.
So we left the scene on that village green
— but we have our memories!