Seated, secured, awaiting our ride;
Brave on the outside, frightened inside.
The old wooden coaster cranks and it creaks..
It lifts us towards heaven, pushed back in our seats.
The first drop, deceptive, elicits few cries
Then, at a gallop, we're hurled down from the sky.
Over and under we're shaken and stirred.
We regret having lunch but we don't say a word.
I'm glad you're beside me, my most faithful friend
The ride comes to a stop and we both say "Again! "
For its joys and terrors few rides can compete.
The Rye Dragon Coaster has seldom been beat.
Some are newer; some faster; if you wish you can try
Still, first Loves are special and must not be denied
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem