Random Rooms - Poem by Angela Wybrow
Way beneath the sizzling sun,
Dozens of children are having fun.
Dressed in swimwear, they’re having a ball,
In the fountains outside Festival Hall.
From hundreds of holes, the water zooms,
Temporarily creating some random rooms.
The jets of water, they leap up so tall,
And surround the children with watery walls.
The dancing jets, the children adore:
There are happy faces and giggles galore.
They run, shrieking, through the jets,
Getting themselves soaking wet.
This art installation holds many a surprise:
It’s anyone’s guess where the water will rise.
The jumping water jets will suddenly subside,
And, beneath the deck, they will wait and hide.
It really is a great game of chance,
As, across the deck, the children dance.
The water stops and starts, and starts and stops,
As, across the deck, the children happily hop.
The children pray for a bright, sunny day,
So that, in the fountains, they’re able to play.
Come summer’s end, the fountains disappear,
But, chances are, they’ll be back here next year.
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