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Travelling Folke

A collection of poems for small folke

Gypsy Roving

I can’t wait Mum

Come and Buy

Camp fire at night

I love it up here

All is not what it seems

Punch and Judy

The Fairground

We are Strolling Players

I love it up here

by Lesley Mellor

My head is in the sky
you look like ants down there.
Look how I can lift my stilts
‘Oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the crowd.
Will he fall? Will he crash?
Oops there he walks,
first on one leg
then on the other.
See me turn around
The world twirls.
Everything looks different
big is small
small is tiny.
I feel I could leave the earth
float gently through the clouds.
Now it’s time for my juggling act
Four coloured balls
I toss them in a circle
faster and faster
like a spinning top.
The balls go back into my pocket.
I take off my top hat
and take a bow.
The people applaud
The children jump up and down.
They call out
‘hello tall man
aren’t you scared up there’?
‘No, I love it up here
I’m in heaven.’

    C Sydney 2003
    Lesley Mellor

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