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
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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.’
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