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