West Plains, Missouri Fair 1939 Poem by Della Hodgson James

A number of school children
From the Ozark hills,  
Saw the West Plains Fair,  
With it's breath taking thrills.
They enjoyed it all,  
I'd say every minute. 
They explored every place
Of amusement within it.

My granddaughter and I,  
Rode the merry-go-round. 
It made me so dizzy,  
I could scarcely stand.

But she enjoyed it greatly,  
And was loathe to go. 
Yet I had all I wanted,  
Of the merry-go.

It was getting near time
For the concert, where
The people were gathering,  
With a bustle and stir.

So in a winding route,  
We wended our way
To the pavillion, where the band,  
Was going to play.

Yet quite to late for,  
A seat were we. 
And no in a very good
Position to see.

So I help the child up,  
So she could see the stand. 
And the young musicians,  
Who played in the band.

We enjoyed it very much,  
Also another act or two. 
Then the child became restless,  
I didn't know what to do.

Then out came the skaters
And captured her eyes,  
From that time on
No more sobs or cries.

We had, had no idea
What we were going to see,  
Until into that whirlwind
They pitched with glee.

The child's heart would flutter
And O, such a frown,  
Her eyes would dropp downward
She would glance around.

Then back to the stage
With a flash, they would fly,  
And, I myself could scarcely
Believe my eyes.

I was like the child
It struck fear in my heart,  
Yet I pay them this tribute
In memories chart.

It was an excellent performance
And with such perfect ease,  
We want them to know
We appreciate them, please.

Yet they made me dizzier
Than the merry-go-round,  
Again I was swaying
I could scarcely stand.

My daughter said, "Mother
Come sit right here." 
And was I glad? Yes
Many thanks to her!

But there was worse to come
Dear mercy! My lands!  
Out onto the stage, reeling 
Came a drunken man.

Of all the hair raise episodes,  
I thought he capped the climax. 
I feared every instant, that
A fall would be his finish.

I ask my little grand child,  
With a much worried frown. 
If she was watching, she said,  
"I want him to get down."

He is rightly named
It was a death defying dare;  
To master such a feat,  
So high up in the air.

A masterpiece of perfection,  
But it's me for the ground. 
I'm like my little granddaughter,  
Please take him down.

* * * * * * *

Dedicated in memory of the West Plains Fair. For the benefit of my granddaughter, Sunny Joan Griffin. Age 2yrs.