fluffy candy floss

pink spun sugar confection

funfair memories

A love story in pink

It was just like the movies, she a graceful pirouette,  
A swanlike, spin of sugar, twirling, frou-frou skirts of net.
Pointed toes and painted smile so perfect, so serene:
Dainty old- school beauty, frozen on a silver screen. 

Silently he gazed at her, with tears upon his cheeks.
Cursing his stupidity,  words she'd heard him speak 
Pink is foolish, just for girls, pink won't make me cool
Making me like pink will make me look just like a fool.


Years went by, he watched his girl with wings upon her feet.
Never tasting candy floss, sugar mice so sweet. 
Childhood zooming fast as light,  caught up in his life
Sadly watching someone else, dance with her,  their wife. 

Life was lived in technicolour, boisterous, crazy, wired..
Losing though, his one true muse, was tough to stay inspired.
Every time zone, every flight, every business start;
None compared to that first love and losing deep his heart. 

Now, here she was, before him now, in slippers old and soft 
Holding her Pink nightdress gently , spinning, hands aloft.
Love filled every tiny part of him, every aged bone.
Tea trays rattled, voices mumbled, someone rang a phone . 

Eyes they met across the lounge, time and years stood still. 
Back before the lines and wrinkles, plastic tubs of pills.
Six again, he's Fred Astaire , as they begin their dance 
His pinkest shirt pressed to her chest she gives him one last chance. 

LW