May-Day Poem by Pamela Ann Frances Crane

I wandered, lonely, as a cloud
Of loose balloons above the fair
Carried the colours of the crowd
Into the blue and steamy air;
The crush, the smells, the shrieking rides
Swamping the town between the tides.

The folks out foraging for fun
Saw no-one watching by the queue,
Merely a shadow in the sun
Only a breath away from you;
Your onions flavouring my nose,
Your ice-cream dripping on my toes.

The chilly girls, the loud parade
Dispersed to hot dogs on the pier,
Counting the money they had made -
The same routine as every year.
The rattled bucket caught a pound
I picked up on the rugby ground.

That’s all I had. I hope it went
To folks in institutions, or
To help some other indigent
Hungry as me, whose feet were sore,
No dog for comfort, no guitar,
Curled up where all the dustbins are.

I wander, lonely. As a cloud
Of pungent steam rolls up the town
Enveloping me like a shroud
Your lights wink on, my sun goes down.
May-Day, May-Day by the sea;
Tears at bedtime - none for me.