Notes About The Poem

Written 8 May 2026 for  2026-05-02 Mingle Poetry Contest sponsored by Constance La France

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Mingle


A fancy fair in open air
On a weekend with weather fair
Drags me away from my room`s flare
At some ornate display to stare.

A stream of folks  ceaselessly flow,
Where souls, identity forego,
Where laughter, a symphony low,
And whispers, pleasure they bestow.

I mingle in, a willing guest,
To feel the pulse, the human crest,
Each passing gaze, a silent test,
A moment shared, then put to rest.

No single voice calls for my ear,
But echoes blend from far and near,
Stress and strains start to disappear,
Lost in the crowd that stirs no fear.

 Shoulders collide, a fleeting touch,
 Silent greetings, meaning so much,
In this vast space, I feel a touch
 That I am not on life`s lone crutch.

 Scents of coffee and flowers mix,
Intertwined with the hours that tick;
Sellers, some are inclined to trick,
Others keen their prices to fix.

Smell of diverse cuisines on site
 Offer to varied tastes a bite, 
A service, straight away at sight
From early morn till late twilight.

A mix of goods from east and west
With local brands, on stalls do rest
To meet all choosy buyers` quest 
 At prices they reckon the best.

The crowd, a hotchpot of races
A diversity of faces,
All move with a soft quiet grace,
Each one following his own pace.

Yet in midst of the multitude
I feel a sense of solitude
As deep within, a quietude
Drives me to heights of plenitude.

Each soul, a shining star ablaze,
Jointly they form a cosmic maze;
Through shifting moods and changing days,
We find our stance in countless ways.

A canvas woven, rich and grand,
With threads of stories, close at hand.
In this ocean, I understand,
We're all stardust, across the land.

So, I let myself drift and sway,
In this human tide, come what may,
For by mingling I find my way,
A part of me, at close of day.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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