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By Robert Stanhope A day at the fair, a day away from my office chair, the aroma of fried food in the air, rides left, right, and everywhere, The bumper cars and the Tilt-a-Whirl, my head spins like a squirrel when I see the Merry-go-round, a fair pearl, but it's the Ferris wheel I want to ride with my girl, Spinning round and round and round, the crown jewel of fair days is found, from our seat up high we can see all around, as we sit close and celebrate the love we found, Through years, we've shared many fair days, looking back and above as we stargaze, recalling days gone by sure does amaze, now we have grandkids that enjoy fair days.  Ferris wheel photo captured at the Manatee County Fair in Palmetto, Florida by Robert Stanhope By Robert Stanhope Cities never sleep, they nap, one ear and one eye open to sounds of an alley cat squabble, of a city bus's brakes squeal, of a loudmouth shouting out his window on a hot summer night, as steam rises from the urban underbelly, a pressure cooker.  By Robert Stanhope I mourn today with a single tear in my eye, a memory of the only moment you ever said, I love you.  By Robert Stanhope Black magic permeates the mind leaving behind a fog rolling in heavy on a desperate soul lost in a dark cove of sunken ships, only the sound of a horn will break the curse, guide the spirit to a clear sea free to sail away on tranquil waters.  I planted seeds last week, I’m no gardener, I watered the seeds, I’m no irrigation expert, I weeded around the seeds, I’m no farmer, I saw a sprout today, I’m a visionary, I spoke to the sprout, I’m an encourager, I saw a seedling today, I’m a believer. I listened to the seedling, I heard God. He said, “Grow.”   Image by Myriam By Robert Stanhope
The words were scorching, the lines flowing like lava, singeing the pages like wooden matchsticks, the plot igniting, turning to ashes in the wind, on the barren land, one ember smolders, sparking another story.
By Robert Stanhope
Image by Markus Distelrath
I walk steady
except when I trip, I fall, I walk steady accomplish what I can, but most of all, I walk steady, moving straight ahead, through my shortfalls. I feel the years in my aching feet, relief comes in rainfall.
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Robert StanhopeWriter and photographer. Archives
July 2024
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