Murmurings in the tent

Friends,

The voices were clear, distinct at 1:23 A.M.

They were hushed like hearing with cotton in your ears.

A policeman came by but didn't hear.

A deer and her speckled fawn ate nearby but didn't care.

The couple kissing had not a moment to spare.

The voices trailed up and down the stairs,

One tent to another the murmurings were heard.

"Did you hear that old woman say I was ugly.  She ought to look in the mirror and see real ugly"

"I am going to miss the blue bonnets.  He was so pretty.  I hope he enjoys his new home."

"Did you see that woman who bought the wooden bowl.  I sure liked her son."

"She was 70 years old and she didn't start painting until she was 64.  She looked 39."

"That man from Fort Worth, I sure did like."

The voices, the stories, the characters, the adventures.

Down by the creek in the midnight hour.

Murmurings and gigglings and smiles and heart-felt talk.


The voices became sleepy and the last words that were heard,

"Goodnight, John Boy.  Good night, Spot the horse.  Good night, Columbian Girl necklace.  Good night snow cone maker in cowboy boots."

Welcome to the Art Fair 2014.  What a success!

All but one vendor had an excellent day.  All said, "Thanks to each of you for taking time to come.

And to all -- the Art Fair is tomorrow, too.  If you come --- listen closely and the art will tell you tales from the midnight hour.

VR/Skip