Travelling Circus When I was a child I remember thinking that chain around the elephant’s leg wasn’t strong enough. Elephants are tough! If he wanted he could free himself just by lifting that mighty foot - shaking the metal loose and walking away... Why does he stay? No-one could stop him if he chose to go - take his own path. So why does he kick sawdust, put up with a little lady who leans unafraid into his ear to cup her hand and softly whisper? “Roll-up! Roll-up! Be prepared for wonder to lift you to the heavens!” Miss Trapeze swapped four solid walls for the Big Top seduced by the Ring Master’s red coat. His smile dazzled her eyes, silver tongue promised to transport her very soul, so she grabbed his hook was lifted high above the crowd poised with one leg bent. High up toes grip the metal tensioned wire - but will he be her safety net? Fire-eating heart burns – who said it was my turn to kiss the flames, again? Mr Bo, my heart jangles when your smile misses your eyes, the face of a clown soft-shoe-shuffling through my heart... Your contempt for my feelings broke something inside. You judged me harshly; unworthy, beneath your regard. In total disgrace, I slunk away to heal. I needed to breathe deeply - to absorb, learn to swallow before wearing silk again... Are we all clowns underneath white frills and painted masks – the ‘real’ -concealed? The Ring Master can reach a hand inside your chest and squeeze... masquerading as a gentle man, lover, seducer he cracks the whip - circles the horses, lets the monkeys laugh and play with careless disarray around your heart. I tip my hat to all who enter the ring. Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013
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Perth Words... exploring possibilities. 
The circus is such an apt metaphor for the game of love. “I tip my hat to all who enter the ring” says it all.
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Thank you for your comment, Liz. These were originally separate poems written to my daughter’s artwork for her Exhibition but I thought they worked equally well together.
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