Under Noon We Spun Us Poem by james watkin
Under Noon We Spun Us
Under noon we spun us
Like whirligigs of glee.
As bright a sound did make.
Warped musicality!
Marvels flashing, all but
Marked off as pony-rode.
Happy go lucky life, in
Fairground attraction's mode!
But Time was a siren
Out-blaring "drop the reins! "
A hold on Innocence
Now that no one retains
Past wiping life's sweet taste
Like fairyfloss from cheeks
Some ran where Fidgity
From Obsurity peeks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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12/17/2025 10:29:26 PM # 1.0.0
