A Midnight Ride On The Roseneath Carousel
At midnight
The lights go on
Seated
On colourful horses
Spectres of long ago
Dressed in their finest
Nod to their host
They patiently
Await
The sounds
Of the paper fed
Wurlitzer organ
Creating music
From across time
Suddenly
The bump and grind
Of old metal
Begins
Moving
Up and down
Down and up
Turning the carousel
Round and round
Its riders
Clap
Laugh
Giggle
Converse
While visions
Dance through the air
Repeating scenes
From
The Carousel’s history
After the requisite time
The music signals
The end of the ride
The lights turn out
Leaving its guests fulfilled
For another night
Copyright 2024
by Bill Ferguson
All Rights Reserved