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.