Carousel Poem by Dahlia Rose

He stands so still,
He never moves
As all the others
Stamp their hooves.
Up and down,
They go again,
But he stands still
Even then.
The kids refuse
To ride on him,
His paint is old,
His eyes are dim.
But one small child
He knows will be
there to ride
At half past three.
The little boy
Sits so still.
He can't walk,
He never will.
But, that old horse,
He can ride,
With his mother
By his side.
Today he says
That he's a knight.
This hoses, his steed,
Is his delight.
When nighttime comes
And bright lights dim
You'd think that you
Could see him grin.
Because this horse
Has brought such joy
To that special
Little boy.