Mardi Gras Madness

Mardi Gras Madness

By Mary Beth Magee

"T'row me som'pin, mistah!" yells the crowd along the curb,

And the riders throw them something as if they could be heard.

The roar of human masses drowns out single voice or thought.

Only beads, doubloons and trinkets can appease the crowd's onslaught.

As purple, green and golden hues shade everything in sight,

The distant roar of motorcycles nearing sounds so right.

Horses step in rhythm, cadence clopping as they pass.

At a float's approach the crowds surge toward the street, en masse.

Last fling before the austere days of Lent, we celebrate

With parties, food and bright parades to make the grayness wait.

A pretty string of beads to keep, a blazoned cup to hold,

A treasured doubloon to collect become Mardi Gras gold.

At midnight, Carnival will end, like Cinderella's ball

And costumes put away in attics, closets in the hall

Remind us of the fun and laughs we shared with loved ones dear.

And we start counting down the days to Mardi Gras, next year.

Mary Beth Magee

Mary Beth draws on her curiosity and love of research to explore the world around her and write about it. New Orleans native, she now lives in northern CA, by way of Chicagoland. She first saw her name in print as a juvenile book reviewer her hometown paper and hasn't stopped writing since. Her checkered past includes stints as a telephone operator, substitute school teacher, cosmetic sales, home health aide, government contractor, kitchen help in a deli, real estate sales, office manager and corporate trainer. She holds a Bachelor of Science degree in Psychology, focusing on adult learning. Over the years, her writings covered news and feature articles, book and movie reviews, training materials, greeting cards, short fiction, poetry, and church bulletins.

Laissez les bons temps rouler!