Small Town Show

You HAVE to go to the show....
No arguments!
To justify the gargantuan effort,
Perpetually put in,
By always the same volunteers.
See the artistic projects,
Collected over the whole year,
By class teachers at the local school.
The Produce, cooking, wool, photography and artistic items.
Enjoy traditional lunch prepared by the Hospital Auxiliary. 
Small daughters on small ponies,
To be led around the show ring,
Marvel at The Great Zamboni,
Comedy Magician.
Visit stands representing all the emergency agencies.
The jumping castles, lolly and weaponry-filled showbags.
Packs of lolly-hyped small boys,
With plastic submachine guns,
Terrorising their sisters.
Over-coiffed and make-upped tweens,
Vying for Miss Showgirl.
(Who don't risk entering, for fear of losing face.)
Smart dressed farmers in moleskins, plaid shirts and hats,
Check out the various species of 'stock',
And the sheep dog trials. 
And after a long and fatiguing day,
You pack up your tired, ratty kids,
Who clasp their ribbons, sashes, rosettes and submachine gun.
Then drive your familial circus;
Car with horse float,
Home.
You can let the feeling of relief wash gently over you,
Because it is over for another year.