The Challenger Word: Cotton Candy

Provided by the sweet blogger Saltyavocado

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A funfair is a sweet experience for young and old. But more exciting than the adrenaline rush through the vains caused by fast roller coaster rides, are the iconic delights of sugary delicasies. Hidden in every bite of cotton candy lays a nostalgic journey back to our childhood memories.

The style of the poem is: AAAA BBBB

I give you,

Cotton Candy

By Gregor

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Up and down, left and right.

Deepest laughter, smiling bright.

Not only roller coasters on this site

Are spending visitors delight.

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Shooting booths, magic shows.

Curiosity in the child’s eyes grows.

Baked potatoes, marshmallows.

Million smells right in the nose.

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A kid, close to her mother’s hand

Passed by a bedraggled stand

Where the owner did not pretend

To be every customer’s best friend

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Although the stall looked like rotten,

In sunless shade, almost forgotten,

The child’s desire had been begotten

When she saw the candy-made cotton.

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“Sorry kid, I am not a clown,

Like the other sellers in town!”

Said the owner with a frown,

The furrow on his forehead down.

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“With no attraction to promote

They placed my booth far remote.

No customer here, as you may note.

My stuff must be bad, people connote.”

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“But Sir” interrupted the girl so dandy,

“your stall stands here really handy,

Even if you face looks bandy,

I crave for your sweet cotton candy!”

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“A kid’s words can so honest be,

It is almost crushing me.

But a kind heart I always see,

Thus, you get this sweet for free.”

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“Sir, even though you look so rude

Actions decide who’s bad, who’s good.”

Said the girl, while taking the food.

“Kid, you turn me into happy mood.”

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When the child departed with a grin,

The seller forgot every former sin,

And the misery he had been in.

As one thing ends, another can begin.

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Twenty years later the girl became

A wonderful woman of beauty and fame.

With her own son, to the same

Fun fair from her past she came.

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They quickly passed through the mace

To eventually reach the place

Of the man with the grumpy face.

But now, there was an empty space.

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Looking sad, she said to her son,

“I guess, the man from the stories is gone,

For we have to look for another one

Who sells you cotton candy, Hun.”

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In the chaos of all the other stands

Owners shouted, laughed and dance,

To attract with performance

People with wallets in their hands.

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Due to their artificial profile

The woman avoided them for a while.

Her frustration was almost to reconcile.

Yet, she found a seller of humble style.

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She told him “Sir, I am glad we found

A booth like yours on this fair’s ground,

Which is free of all annoying sound

And isn’t hunting us like a hound.

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Once a man taught me in my youth,

That it is good to tell the truth.

Over the years I developed a ruth.

So, I decided to visit his booth.

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But he left, or moved or died,

At least I can say, that I have tried.

However, I will put the past aside.

It is my son’s turn which sweet to decide.”

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Before the kid said what he preferred,

The owner stands up without a word

to prepare cotton candy stirred.

A first, a second and a third.

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“The one for you for the time we had been apart,

The second for your son, may he as you be smart.

The third for me for a remarkable restart.

I see, you still have the kindness in your heart.”

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