In that magic world of Carousels
Striped candy bars and tinkling bells
I see myself when as a boy
I revelled in unbridled joy
...
The road to the lake is winding and steep
Sheep on the heather a lone vigil keep
Clouds on the mountain sit silent and still
‘Mid soft summer sounds as little birds trill
...
It is time to take things easy
It is time to take things slow
It is time to savour time he said
It is time to let things go
...
Born in Cork to where I have returned having lived and worked in a variety of places ranging from Angola to Scotland and different parts of Ireland. I have been writing poetry! ! ! on and off for many years but never tried to have any published. I enjoy reading, sea fishing and hearing good yarns over a few beers.)
The Majic World Of The Carousel
In that magic world of Carousels
Striped candy bars and tinkling bells
I see myself when as a boy
I revelled in unbridled joy
On Robins Ranger
Going around and round
And up and down
To the strident sound
Of the hurdy gurdy playing loud
To the laughing faces in summer crowd
Roustabouts in bandanas red
Rifle shots ring in the shooting shed
Buskers, hawkers, travelling clans
In multi coloured shining vans
All promised excitement
The fun of the fair
The swing boats, the dodgems
I still see them there
The lottery wheel clicks and whirls
Spinning hopes and dreams
Of boys and girls
The longed for number I recall
Yielded the winner a brand new ball
That just bounced through time
From then to now
Through many life’s thoughts
And yet somehow
Why that is so I cannot tell
Perhaps it’s the majic of the Carousel.
© ED P Buckley 19 03 05