Here, Goliath fell,
felled by a stone.
Stone hand lying,
Lies, finger pointing,
Points, accusing,
Accuses brave David,
David, who slew him,
He, who fell here.

As I wait and watch … for I know not what,
The only other whom I see
Is a sure and steadfast shadow-self,
That proves to me I do exist.

Fleeting cloud-cast shadows
Melt upon me like silken veils,
That softly drawn over one who sleeps,
Rise and fall to Slumber’s breaths

These then and mine own,
Keep faith day-long along with me
And remind me that I’m not alone,
As I wait and watch … for I know not what.

Ground test’s stone’s resolve,
Its fingers ever prising;
Yet still no victor.

Stone resists the ground,
Defies its invading creep;
Thus still no vanquished.

Neither giving way,
Each believes it holds the deeds;
This, the age-old fight.

“Welcome!” cried the man in red,
      hat in hand and arms flung wide.
      “What a show we have for you
      so be prepared to be amazed!”

The band exploded into life,
      and startled children, hands on ears,
      strained to see as the curtains parted,
      and watched the sights which then revealed.

Trunk to tail, the elephants came,
      their skin like crumpled tissue,
      and walked in bracelet round the ring,
      with measured plod and a synchronous nod.

Then tutued ladies astride white horses,
      nimbly moved to stand on bare backs
      and daintily cantered and bobbed
      to the sound of brass oompahs and “Oohs!” and “Ahs!”

The lions swaggered and paw-padded in
      and children shrank in their seats,
      eyes as and mouths as round as the roars
      and with a shake of the mane, the cats yawned in disdain.

In the neck-crane heights of the Big Top’s top,
      the trapeze swung to and fro,
      and the crowd held its breath
      for as long as it held in mid-motion.

Below, Coco’s slapstick and antics
      made the doubled-up crowd hold their sides,
      and as his bow tie wind-milled round,
      he tripped over his two-feet long feet

At last, came cart-wheeling Melvin!
      He somersaulted around the ring
      and sawdust flew at every turn:
      Topsy-turvy Melvin thought he was the King!

Handsprings, forward rolls,
      he basked in adulation:
      light as air, he pancaked flipped
      and with his team did hold-breath tricks.

Pin-striped tights and buttoned coat,
      topped by a hat at a rakish skew,
      and with sequinned lace about his neck,
      Melvin looked quite the bee’s knees!

For his grander than grand finale,
      Melvin was flicked from a plank:
      tossed like a coin, so fast, a blur,
      but as always, landed four-square.

He bowed to the hand-stinging claps,
      threw two-pawed kisses to one and to all
      then by way of an encore, turned a back-flip,
      as he scampered and skipped from the ring.

From a caravan later that night,
      could be heard self-satisfied purrs,
      as Melvin the Marvellous, reflected,
      never doubting he was the cat’s whiskers!

Now, when El Primo was a boy,
Then known to his friends as Sid,
He found he had a talent
For juggling ping pong balls.
So
He decided that the path for him
Was entertaining people
And he thought by far the best
Was to join the circus folk.
So
One day, when the circus called
In Sidney’s own home town,
He dressed in his best
And went to check his chances.
So
He went to the place where
The circus had set up camp
And knocked on the door
Of the largest caravan.
So
Then the door opened
And a ruddy-faced man
Cheerily boomed down,
‘Hello there young man!’
So
Sid swallowed hard,
Shuffled his feet a bit
Then asked straight out,
‘Can I join the circus?’
So
Trying not to scoff,
The man said,
‘Well now; there’s a question.
Come inside and we’ll have a chat.
So
Sat inside, Sid told all;
Of how his friends and family
Loved to watch him juggle
And of the shows in school.
So
The man, who said his name was Fred,
Asked Sid how old he was
And when Sid said seven,
Fred stifled a little smile.
So
In the nicest way,
He said to Sid, ‘Look lad;
You need to be a few years older.
Come back when you’re seventeen.
So
A bit crestfallen,
Sid went home to think
But going over what Fred had said,
He hadn’t actually said ‘No’.
So
In the intervening years,
Sidney practiced every day,
Learning new tricks
And better techniques.
So
At long, long last, came the day;
Two days after his seventeenth,
The circus came again
And post-haste, Sid was there!
So
He knocked on the same door
And the same man came out.
Fred welcomed Sid with a grin
And warmly beckoned him in.
So
Sid and Fred sat and chatted
Until at last a decision was made;
Fred said he could do with a juggler
Who had plenty of tricks.
So
Sid’s dream was realised
And he couldn’t believe it;
In the circus at last!
But he needed a name.
So
He and Fred chatted some more,
Over beans on toast
And very strong tea,
Until Fred yelled ‘El Primo!’
So
With a name for the posters,
Sid was in bliss
And impatient to start,
Went back the next day.
So
Fred took him round
To meet all the others;
He shook lots of hands
Plus the elephant’s trunk.
So
Now on his way
To stardom and fame,
El Primo rehearsed hard
For his first performance.
So
On the night of his debut,
El (Sid) Primo,
Awaited his cue
Then made his grand entrance.
So
With his perfect technique,
He juggled all manner of things,
From balls and clubs
To the odd willing child.
So
As the crowd went wild,
El Primo went faster and faster,
His arms like the spokes
Of a fast spinning wheel.
So
From hand to hand,
Like a lightning flash,
Our Sid did his absolute best
To delight the mesmerised crowd.
So
To tumultuous roars,
El Primo finished his turn
By juggling seven sticks,
All of which were on fire!
So
Sid was well pleased
That his dream had come true
And wondered if later
He’d change his name to El Suprimo?

It sits

Like a giant jelly
Turned out on the field,
Or an upside-down pudding
Turned on its head.

It simpers

Like a crinolined girl,
Its skirt billows and sways
And it flutters its picots
Like a panto dame’s lashes.

It watches

Like an alien spaceship,
That just happened to land,
And grew ropy tendrils
That resemble Cat’s Cradle.

It waits …

Like something alive,
It breathes in and out
And without any doubt,
Could swallow a crowd whole!

Bottoms hung by tops and tops by bottoms,
Gripped at welts and waists,
This brawling rabble leads a lively dance.
They writhe and flap,
Yank and pull;
All hot air and bluster
But pegs maintain parental hold.

Then energy seeming spent,
Sleeves drape on drooping shoulders
In drunken camaraderie.

A ruse … they’re re-grouping!

Wind-combed hair,
Ears on fire,
Sting-cold air … exultation.

Rock-hard seat,
Piston-legs,
Duck the trees … invincible.

Shaken bones,
Frozen hands,
Weave the cones … formidable.

Razor breaths,
Pounding heart,
Ring the bell … exuberant.

Glide the flat,
Back-spin spokes,
Jinx round cat … omnipotent.

Flies in the teeth,
Gasping lungs,
Jet-fast speed … liberation.

Feel the hills,
Worth the pain,
Free-wheel thrills … incomparable!