Maypole

[Brownlie]

Maypole

In days long past when lad and lass,
looked forward to a time of fay,
when young and old would all have fun
to start the merry month of May.

The brawny lads and all their dads,
with a sweet song and nar' a frown,
would dig a hole, for the maypole,
and bury a third of it in the ground.

Attached to the crown high up on top,
hung colored ribbons to the ground,
made by mother’s and their lasses,
in blues, and reds and golds and browns.

Then handsome lads and bonny lasses,
would take a ribbon and dance around,
singing and weaving round about,
until the pattern reached the ground.

-Erthona

©2002

The meter is a little off, and some of the rhyming repeats itself and seems a little forced, but the subject is intriguing. Cool poem.