Welcome to “The Surreal Carnival!”

Behind these walls rain showers of fairy dust, and blue clouds grin with a healthy but mischievous glow
A place where women made of cracked multicolored glass hold cocktails glittering with the syllables that will form the words their tongues will soon sow
Ghostly hostesses wearing dresses of wind sewn into designs reminiscent of a Mardi Gras parade, fantastical stories of warlords and gnomes, from their spirits, easily flow like so many rivers
As fire feathers float through the air and land upon the forest of ice trees, never melting, and form a picture of flaming leaves, a tapestry of twinkling mirrors
They walk as proud as a peacock’s harem, while children frolic with the wild abandon of tumbleweed caught up in a wind rushing to a waiting destination donning very little patience
While elves spin variously spiced treats on wheels made of candy,  their fingers bent like branches but nimble, whimsical, the appearance of their work stations
As candy canes march around in pairs strutting with the gait of the Tennessee walking horse, the ground giggles and makes funny sounds with each step that lands on a belly button
The grounds teem with periods, commas, vowels, and consonants that are desperate to be added to a tale, their appetites as ravenous for the taste of fantasy as that of food to a glutton
From the center of what appears to be a globe with silver freckles, the ringmaster of the show watches through a countenance of revolving carnival masks
The stories he lives to craft under lamps lit by moonlight, their plots he keeps harvested in seven twinkling, yet moody and mad flasks
But do not be afraid, his pen invites your presence, as for him, it’s as delightful as the dragons he loves to slay
So pull off your cloak of inhibitions, relax in a chair, and allow your imagination to roam free among the grounds of the fantastic, a world where the surreal come to play.

Gwendolen McCloud – Fantasy Food Author

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