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Travelling Folke

A collection of poems for small folke

Gypsy Roving

I canít 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

All is not what it seems

by Lesley Mellor

You see my smiling white face
big red lips with their huge grin
you hear me laughing loud
watch me tumbling, rolling around
kicking the other clowns
with my big floppy shoes.
But all is not what it seems.
Iím in love with the tight-rope lady
but she has eyes only for the lion-tamer
they both like living dangerously.

When I first saw her
glittering high above the crowd
moving like a dream
along the taut wire
she stole my heart.
To her Iím just a fool
a clown.
And that is what I am,
a laughing clown,
but behind this happy mask
inside Iím crying
for a lady I love
who doesnít love me.



    C Sydney 2003
    Lesley Mellor

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