Irish Hills | Previous Challenge Entry

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TITLE: Irish Hills | Previous Challenge Entry
By Sharon Eastman
08/27/15
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Long ago when I was young, and my life had just begun,
Mom and Dad took me for thrills to the rolling Irish Hills.

First we’d stop at Mystery Spot where wonderful wonders could be sought.
With floors and walls that defied gravity and mirrors that focused obesity.

Mystery Spot was such a great lark we drove further on to Dinosaur Park.
The road went high on hills so green; the prettiest site I’d ever seen.

While folks departed a tourist bus, a mechanical dinosaur greeted us.
I was spooked and really scared, but my folks laughed at the fun they shared.

We reluctantly rode in a wobbly train on rusty tracks that sang a refrain
Through woods and fields thick and dark while pursued by the monsters of Dinosaur Park.

Those vicious mechanical dinosaurs, forced the folks to screams and roars.
Out of the thicket they’d surprise, our pounding hearts and bolting eyes.

Dad took my hand as we left the grounds, a shabby spot with eerie sounds,
And I was glad when we left that scene ‘cause those big monsters were scary and mean.

Last stop on our trip was the old Western Town where fanciful cowboys and cowgirls were found.
And old time Indians in light leather suits with feet protected by moccasin boots.

With war-painted faces that frightened the crowd; these Indians stood stately, tall and proud.
I stared at one ‘til he started to blink and Dad grinned at him and gave me a wink.

We stood in line for an old train ride ticket on a rusty old rail we rode through the thicket.
Robotic cowboys sprung from the grounds scaring us with their fake gunshot rounds.

When back at the fort pair of dueling cowhands, shooting and racing through buildings and stands.
It was only a play, but it seemed so true. I bravely fought tears ‘til the battle was through.

The best part of our journey was browsing the store that trapped folks with bric-brac, junk and more.
Dad finally relented, bought me an ice cream – t’was back to reality ending our dream.

My folks are now gone, those days lost in wonder. It was a great time, a great time to ponder
The things of the future, the things of the past, and we thought that these good times would always last.

Back in the sixties it was simple fun - to see mirrors and monsters and cowboys run.
Today folks have theme parks so costly and grand. They’ve robbed simple pleasures from America’s land.

Now this fantasy ground is deserted with blight, crickets with soothing sounds echo the night.
And, I sure miss the simple thrills, of the rolling, verdant, great Irish Hills.

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