Oh, how I usta' love the fair,
Peekin' through splits in the big brown tent
at women nekkid bare.
Kickin' through the sawdust damp in the pasture's
vacant lot.
When September's kiss on autumn breeze, chased
away the August hot.
Champeen bulls, an' tractor pulls, and prize roosters
crowin' loud.
Blue ribbon hawgs, an' ol' coon dawgs an' the jugs
passed through the crowd.
Fresh popcorn an' peanuts roasted, an' a turn on the
ferris wheel.
Pink cotton candy an' the house of horrors, an' makin'
all the girls squeal.
Ice cream bars an' bumper cars, an' a fifteen cent
freak show.
An' a candy apple on a stick, near scared myself to 
death on the hammers throw.
Building a peck of memories on a night without a
care.
Lord, how I loved the fair.

Toadstools,
elves unaged by time,
laughter of children
whimsical chimes.

A wildflower,
crushed in a loving embrace,
tears from a bee sting,
the mud on your face.

An old tire swing,
pebbles from a brook, 
a tadpole,
a crawfish,
all earned special looks.

Chasing all the magic things,
a butterfly,
a song to sing.

Fill my heart and life with joy,
You'll always be my little boy.

Belle II

Cross river deep in barbed bramble's heap,
through pine woods and hickory dwell,
on the night the sound of a lost soul,
a black and tan coonhound named Belle.

Old ringtail's minutes were numbered
from the moment she caught his first smell,
playing my heart in her full voice, 
a black and tan coonhound named Belle.

In memory a far away echo,
A black and tan coonhound named Belle.

A night, too warmed by thought to sleep, seen through.
Hard shadows dappled by the first gray light of day.
Thoughts as fragile as the cobwebs in the ceiling corners
above me as I lay.
Thoughts bemused, of laughter past and honeyed
whispers spoken.
Thoughts of long lost loves and promises long broken.
Thoughts dancing in and whirling 'bout.
Now gone as such thoughts must.
Of honeysuckle memories, and dreams in summer's dust.