Carousel

Picture source: thank you,  The Photo Nomad

It’s a fairground
of musical things that surround us,
feel the world turn around us
as we ride
this carrousel.

Love is the rush
of our dreams – nothing is real
sat on a saddle of make believe –
but I’m flying
high on a story book’s
sighing,
riding off to my own golden
ending  just as my dreams stop,
they’re all make believe
and you’re lying,
surrounding hills spin,
they are dying
as I ride
this carousel.

But ride with me,
sing with me,
lovers hold hands
as we fly,
be the prince that you seem
in this picturesque dream

as we send off
storybook lovers and endings
spinning and whirling
around life
in this roundabout circus –
just spin a ride and we’ll see
if love still leaves me cold,
and if it’s only a dream –
gold isn’t real

but we’ll ride up,
gripping hands still
clinging to twisted
candy cane,
fluoresced by bulbs
and loony tunes
wafting through
sugar spun smiles
at a zillion miles per hour –

quick, turn the page
and we’ll see
what  our storybook
ending will be.