Helen dreams of camp as a child as
beneath the moon a carnival in rows
and a nocturne of laughter rings
from the parking lot carnival shows,
in the heart of the city, which some find whimsical.
Like Cinderella, they dance in the carnival as
chess is played by stars in the sky,
A mastery of constellations, up high.
Helen dreams of camp as a child as
carnival magic transpires not lacking whimsical.
In three rings, the circus unfolds as
a spectacle of wonder in the soft lamplight.
City streets echo with the carnival’s call,
Under the circus lights, no stars are seen in the night
Checkmate, as laughter and joy entwine in whimsical
The city life, adorned in carnival colors as
a song is sung in the carnival’s tune,
the city wife hears memories of summer nights.
a melody of moments, beneath the silver moon.
Helen dreams of camp as a child and is whimsical
of camp, closet dramas, giggles, and whispers,
while in the city, only complaints of the heart,
in the carnival’s song, no tales of silly secrets,
No friends that made you a part–
of something. Unveiling emotions that were whimsical.
The complex couch, where promises of friendships were made,
A refuge from cold city nights, where crime does pay.
Lost in the carnival Helen dreams of camp,
where joy and innocence in memories still play.
In the carnival’s magic, Helen finds it absent of whimsical.
WoPoLi 
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