Burst by boys to scare the girls and make them scream,
Filled with water, or worse, to catapult the other gang,
Twisted magically into dogs and ponies,
Phalluses to solicit sniggles.
Riotous drunken laughter drowns the DJ
as coupled pairs contort to pass them
up and down, under and over to the lines end.
No touching now the only rule.
Ceiling hugging helium makes cheeky boys of grown men
Fits of squeaky voiced tear stained laughter
his fairground prize floats off across the sea to France
a mother’s love no recompense for a child’s lost joy
Let loose en masse, colour coded cries of protest
Basketed tours fly majestically above Serengeti’s Maasai giraffes
Platforms for champagne proposals and parachute jumps
The kaleidoscopic other worldliness of a flock of Hoppers at dusk
© Sheila Ash, 2018