Comments 14


The fair was in the centre of the racecourse

and every Easter we’d beg our parents for pounds

while Granddad clambered to stand on the back of the 4×4

and Granny passed around salmon and cucumber sandwiches,

sausage rolls, cups of tea, and packs of ready salted crisps.

Some years we would squirm away from sun-cream and hats,

while other were spent huddled beneath umbrellas,

or listening to the rain hammer on the roof and windows

while the horses continued to gallop past the windscreen,

mud splattered and steaming.

You and I

counted down the races one by one,

until the vested interests of family friends had run their laps

and someone was free to wander away from the track

to the spinning swings, and the carousels and hook-a-duck

where we laughed and screeched and groaned when we lost.

Now I am older the fair seems smaller

and we do not beg for pound or wander down the bank towards it.

But it’s there

in the distance,

glinting and burnished like a penny in a puddle,

while I eat salmon and cucumber sandwiches in the back of a pickup

and my Grandfather cheers from the flatbed

roaring his runners home.


Not far from where my parents live is Eyton Racecourse and every year they hold point-to-points (an amateur steeplechase) and it’s a family tradition to go each year to one of the Easter meets.

When my sister and I were younger, all we wanted was to go to the fair. It was our favourite part of going to the point-to-point. Now we’re older we don’t go to the fair and we’re more interested in the actual racing.

Hopefully there’s enough about the fair in this to meet tonight’s Poetic’s Prompt from the dVerse Poets Pub!

Charlie Boy

This entry was posted in: Poetry


Carol Forrester is a twenty-four year old writer trying to be a better one. Don’t ask her what her hobbies are because the list doesn’t get much beyond, reading, writing and talking about the same. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University and various poems and stories scattered across the net. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry’s. Most recently, her poem ‘Sunsets’ was featured on Eyes Plus Words, and her personal blog Writing and Works hosts a mass of writing from across the last five years. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and is always open to writing more and hosting guest bloggers here on Writing and Works. With hopes of publishing a novel in the next five years and perhaps a collection or two of smaller works, Carol Forrester is nothing if not ambitious. Her writing tries to cover every theme in human life and a lot of her work pulls inspiration from her own eccentric family in the rural wonders of Shropshire life.


  1. Oh I LOVE this response to the prompt! 🙂 Especially the idea of how the fair was so magical when you were young and looks smaller now….it’s the perspective of youth to see all things as big and glamorous! 🙂 And yet, those sandwiches and your grandfather’s cheers are still with you. A burnished penny memory still wrapped in today’s outing. Lovely! 🙂

  2. Family traditions are the very best. I enjoyed hearing about this one. It was a good read!

    • Thank you Bev. Family Traditions are wonderful. I try to hold onto mine as much as I can and family meets ups for things like point to points are very much part of that.

  3. While some family outings/traditions are best forgotten, this one definitely sounds like a keeper. I love that the whole family is included in this – and how even though the fair seems smaller now, it is there waiting for you….

  4. What a wonderful slice of memory, Carol. Delicious, really.
    I absolutely love this stunner ending:
    “and my Grandfather cheers from the flatbed

    roaring his runners home.”

  5. I love the progression from childhood to adulthood, Carol, and the Englishness of the fair, which is so familiar. When I was little my parents move near to Tattenham Corner, by Epsom racecourse, and I lived with them for a year before returning to my grandparents. I loved horses and fairgrounds and your poem reminds me of that time. My Nan also made salmon and cucumber sandwiches for pretty much every occasion, with ready salted crisps, of course!

  6. Great read…you must be posh if you got salmon in your butties. Unless is was paste of course 😉
    I loved this line in particular ‘glinting and burnished like a penny in a puddle’
    Just nailed it.

  7. For a moment there, I thought we were heading to Cheltenham! This was great fun to read, Carol.

  8. I enjoyed reading about how someone from another country has grown up. It sounds like great fun! Just like life, when you grow up, everything seems smaller, or different.

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