Piñata Treasures

The picnic rug is rolled out,

Freshly pressed.

Brightly coloured stars,

And flecks of glitter woven throughout.

The soft moist grass

Envelopes around the material,

As the weight of the children

Presses down into the soil.

“Hooray, hooray,”

They sing in delight,

“The piñata is ready,

Let’s go, go, go!!!”

The children,

Squealing with delight,

Jump to their feet,

Knocking over sticky candied apples

And other gooey treats.

Bubbly drinks,

Are tipped over.

And the impatient family dog,

Is only too eager,

To clean up the sweet mess,

Himself.

The children,

Push through one another,

In eagerness,

Reaching for the stick,

For the game of Piñata.

Each child wants a turn,

And the fun has begun.

But really, no one is worried

When the game will end,

As the ultimate ending

Is a grand prize for all;

Lollies and candies,

And bubble gum,

To fall.

One hit,

Then two,

Five, six and a few more,

Then crack and crumble

The donkey piñata does fall.

Out pours the jewels

And the treasures within.

Golden wrapped candies,

Chocolates and deliciousness

From within.

Scattered across the floor

Of the old oak tree,

Lay hundreds of prizes

For you,

And for me.