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Conventional

Walking through the doors of this place simply thrills
A whirl of color and strange creatures
-of whom all are known by name
with, often, powers great
and pretended at
And the clamoring of fellows
that come from the country
- and farther still
to gather together this year
again
in an annual party of a half -
of a week
In a ceremony grand
are introduced the Gods of these folk

The Bazaar opens with
a collection of wares seen
so rarely, if at all outside these walls
scrying windows show other realms
and heated debate – in subjects mystic and obscure
winding merchants’ alleys
the talk of the town
And these fey folk
dance into the night with
the pulsing lights and beats
of a magic man of music
until the dawn comes

And on the last day
as the energy slows and
the magic takes it’s toll
awards are given and packed away
the visitors say goodbye for-
another year
and fade back into the hidden places
of whence they came
and leave no trace behind

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