A holiday,
Where families
from far and wide
can rest.
Their caravans
of precious goods,
Collected from
their quest.

Their market fixed,
The goods unfold
And travelers
The last of wine
makes trinkets shine,
Until they’d gather

Away, were put
the painted shells,
While tarot cards
were read.
When moonlight flew
the cabin through,
And children slunk
to bed.

Jonathon Best 2009©